


Holometabolism

by thrysce



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, M/M, Pureblood Politics, Widowers, political fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 14:53:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9766775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thrysce/pseuds/thrysce
Summary: Two single fathers try to keep their children from killing each other and accidentally fall in love in the process.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a fluffy domestic kidfic but it Transfigured itself a new subgenre called 'political fluff' instead. 
> 
> I had a rarepair craving and you know what they say about being the change you want to see in the world.
> 
> This was mostly inspired by thinking about what Harry and Draco might have been like if they'd been raised by their fathers.

McGonagall had had enough of this petty feud. She was a woman of many experiences, a woman who had chosen to pursue her passion in educating instead of caving to her parents' wishes and making a name for herself in the history books. But in all her years of chasing down trouble makers and protecting the school from figurative and literal evil, she had rarely had to deal with the type of ruckus caused by one Mister Harry James Potter.  
  
If he wasn’t doing something to get himself killed, he was picking fights with other students or making a complete nuisance of himself. It’d taken every ounce of self-control she had had not to scream when Harry first arrived with the same smirk as his father, the same hair, the same way of standing, the same habit of hexing anyone who looked at him sideways.  
  
But, of course, he wasn’t James and however much he might have _looked_ and _acted_ like his father, his eyes gave him away. There was Lily in him too, though McGonagall was at times hard pressed to see it. Smart, sensible, brave Lily.  
  
McGonagall remembered keenly how her heart had broken when she heard about Lily Potter’s passing. McGonagall missed her dearly and often wondered what Lily would have to say to her son now. He had been only one-year-old at the time so he wouldn’t remember her, but right now, a good scolding might do him well. Unfortunately, James Potter wasn’t the scolding kind. And as much as McGonagall liked to think of herself as something of a mother figure to Harry, of course there would be no substitute for what he had never known.  
  
James had been given far too much freedom as a child and now he had given Harry far too much freedom as well. It was obvious he loved and doted on his son, but he seemed incapable of reigning Harry in. Or perhaps he didn’t want to.   
  
And that was only half the problem. Draco Malfoy was far from an example student either. There was a fire inside of him that exploded when he and Harry crossed paths. Whereas James had been too kind to Harry, McGonagall had the feeling Draco’s father was far too hard on him. He was only fourteen but sometimes McGonagall thought that he didn’t know how to be a child. He withered when he made mistakes and acted out to compensate for whatever it was he thought he lacked.  
  
Narcissa Malfoy had passed away during Draco’s second year and the poor boy barely held himself together. It was around that time that Draco’s rage begun to show itself. And it was no wonder. Where else were all those emotions going to go? It couldn’t be healthy for a child his age to be bottling everything up inside of him.  
  
Both boys were in fourth year and things were not getting better. McGonagall was afraid someone was going to get seriously hurt.  
  
With that in mind, she had called for both boys’ fathers to attend a special Parent/Teacher conference. They were only at the start of the new school year and she had already given Harry and Draco more detention in two weeks than some students get in their entire seven years at Hogwarts. She wanted to put a stop to this before it became more than she or anyone else could handle.

 

McGonagall welcomed both men into her office with hope springing inside her. It was rare to have parents come all the way to the castle, but she felt the circumstance warranted it.  
  
Calmly, she explained the situation. She tried not to use any hard wording or place blame on anyone in particular. She wanted a conversation that would hopefully lead them to finding a way to get through to the children.  
  
In retrospect, she might have thought it out more. It had taken a grand total of seven and a half minutes before she was starting to fear there would be a duel in her chambers.  
  
“My son didn’t _start_ this!” Lucius Malfoy looked completely offended, the perfect picture of a parent who refused to believe the worst of his son.  
  
“If Harry did, I’m sure he had a valid reason,” James was as McGonagall remembered him, arrogant and completely unconvinced that he was wrong.  
  
“If your child lacks basic self control, I’m not sure he’s fit to be around other children,” Lucius snarled.  
  
“I raised Harry to stand up for what he believes in.”  
  
“And he believes in unprovoked violence?”  
  
“’Unprovoked’ isn’t the word I’d use-”  
  
“ _Gentlemen_!” McGonagall used her warning tone that stopped students in their tracks. It was both validating and disappointing that it still seemed to work on both grown men. She was exasperated. Keeping students from each other’s throats was one thing, but surely she didn’t need to do the same for two adults? “I will have you know that they are _both_ equally given to picking fights with each other for a myriad of arbitrary reasons.”  
  
Both men seemed satisfied with that and McGonagall resisted the urge to roll her eyes. How could they be _proud_ that both their sons were equal in making her life miserable?  
  
“We need a solution,” she said calmly.  
  
“Why?” James asked, looking bored, “they have wands, don’t they? Can’t they settle it themselves?”  
  
Lucius snorted, “What I would expect from an undignified troll.”   
  
“Afraid your son doesn’t stand a chance?”  
  
McGonagall squeezed her eyes shut, a headache mounting.  
  
“Draco has never lost at anything in his entire life.”  
  
“Not including Quidditch, you mean, because he sure excels at losing _there_.”  
  
“I meant anything _substantial_. Quidditch isn’t exactly _graded_.”  
  
McGonagall was regretting calling this meeting. How could she have been so foolish to believe that fifteen plus years out of Hogwarts might mean that they _wouldn_ _’t_ turn into giant manchildren once they were inside her office.  
  
“ _Gentlemen_ ,” she interrupted them, “I am not interested in more fighting. I want a diplomatic solution.”  
  
“They’re kids,” James said, “Let them have fun.”  
  
McGonagall narrowed her eyes at him, “I am well aware of your definition of _fun_ , Mr. Potter.”

James shrugged, “He’ll grow out of it.”

 “As I recall, it took the total of seven years for _you_ to grow an ounce of maturity,” McGonagall took pride in the way he flinched at that. When Lucius snickered, she rounded on him next, “And I’m not convinced you’ve _ever_ matured.” She was satisfied with the way both men were now quiet, glaring at the ground or off to the side. She continued, “Harry and Draco _will not_ have the entirety of their formative years to learn to respect one another.” She was _not_ going to deal with this for three more years. They were going to deal with this _now_ while blood was generally unspilled… well, _mostly_ unspilled.

She seemed to have brought the room back down to Earth. She relaxed a little. “Now, Harry has been vastly immature about-”

“So we can all agree that this is _his_ son’s immaturity-” Lucius started.

And, of course, James was ready to argue at the drop of a hat, “You want to talk about _immaturity_? _Your_ son is-”

McGonagall rubbed her temples, tuning them both out. Maybe she should let the two families off each other after all. She’d already lost track of the argument happening in front of her.

“ _Your_ son is the one who _hit_ mine! Draco would _never_ raise his fist to another!”

James laughed unkindly, “Oh? So the black eye Harry came home with last Christmas was from the Whomping Willow, I suppose?”

“If that was Draco’s doing, I’m sure it was magical and your son didn’t have the reflexes to defend himself.”

“ _Or maybe_ your _Draco_ fights like a Muggle but would never say so because his daddy’s a Purebloodist coward!”

Both men were on their feet now and McGonagall felt she should probably step in. As nice as the quiet would be if they killed each other, it would be another mess she’d have to clean up. She waved her wand and both men were pulled back into their chairs by the armrests reaching out and grabbing them. They looked at her in surprise, almost as if they had forgotten she was there.  
  
“Well,” she said coldly, “I can see there’s little hope of reaching a conclusion today. Mark my words, they _will_ learn to live with each other and if you’re not going to help me, I will deal with this myself.”

James and Lucius looked appropriately ashamed of themselves.  
  
  
  
McGonagall kicked them both out of her office. They stood together awkwardly outside her office door. 

As soon as James had stepped into that office, he had felt like a child in trouble again. It was like the numerous other times he’d had to stare at that wallpaper and come up with excuses for his behaviour. It had been pure instinct to attack Malfoy and try to shift the blame from Harry. But it had been fifteen years since he’d last been in there and he was embarrassed he’d regressed into a child so quickly. Despite the recent evidence, he _had_ in fact grown up and he _was_ quite capable of an adult conversation.

 “Well, we screwed that up,” James said.

“ _You_ screwed that up,” Malfoy retorted.  
  
“I didn’t-!” James clenched his fists, ready for another go, but then reminded himself that he was an _adult_. He took a breath, “We both could’ve been more mature.” If Lily had been here, things would have gone a lot differently. If Lily were here, Harry would probably know better.  
  
James glanced at Malfoy to try to gage his reaction. The other man seemed a lot less irritating out here in the corridor than he had in McGonagall’s office. He had clearly come from work. He was wearing Ministry Robes over a dark waistcoat and shirt. He looked stylish, if a little stiff. It was the sort of dignified style you saw in _Witch Weekly_. It was the sort of style James could never hope to emulate. It would take a miracle to make his hair lay smooth like that.

Malfoy cleared his throat, bringing his hand up to his mouth. “I suppose I said some things I didn’t intend to say.”

James sighed, letting the sound spin around in the silence. He sure missed not having these complicated adult problems. And he was worried that he might have fractured the respect that had grown between him and McGonagall over the years. She probably thought he was a colossal baby, letting his emotions get away like that.

James didn’t _actually_ believe the Malfoys were bad people. He _knew_ bad people. Lestrange, Nox, and Avery, for example. The Malfoys were more like completely ignorant, which was its own problem, but not one that would be solved by Harry beating the snot out of Malfoy Junior whenever they crossed paths.

James knew this was in large part his fault. He had taught Harry that fortune favours the bold and that it was better to die a hero than a coward. Those ideas had translated into this mess. He would have to apologize to Lucius Malfoy eventually because whatever the man’s personal politics, his _son_ didn’t deserve to be punished for not knowing any better. And he was going to have to find a way to talk to Harry about this. The last thing he wanted was for Harry to relive his father’s mistakes.

 

Lucius considered continuing on his way, forgetting Potter and looking forward to hopefully (but unlikely) never hearing about him or his son ever again. But then Potter said, “I can’t believe it’s been 15 years already.” It was closer to 21 years for Lucius, but he didn’t feel like saying so. He was struck by the odd casual way in which Potter was now speaking to him.

Lucius wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say in return, but Potter seemed far less annoying out here, outside the intimidating office that anyone who was anyone had seen the inside of at least once.

Lucius wasn’t sure why Potter was speaking to him like they hadn’t been a second away from cursing each other. But since he didn’t know the reason, he felt like ending this apparent truce would be a mistake, “I’m irritated McGonagall can still terrify me like that.”

Potter was right. When you were at Hogwarts it _always_ seemed like yesterday you were a student and not a near quarter-century graduated. And maybe both of them had been too sensitive and overprotective earlier to have a productive conversation about their problematic sons.

Potter turned away from staring at the ceiling to look at him. Lucius immediately noticed the perfect balance of brown and green in his eyes. The sudden determination in them sent a shiver down Lucius’ spine. “I’m sorry,” Potter said and Lucius had the distinct impression that that was a phrase worth savouring since Potter didn’t seem like someone who admitted guilt easily, “I didn’t mean to get so worked up,” he gave Lucius a sly smirk, “I spent so much of my youth in that office, I got defensive right off the bat.”

Lucius felt he could understand that. They had _both_ been childish. It was something about sitting there, knowing they were in trouble that had crawled under their skins, made them act out, made them feel like teenagers all over again. And Lucius was aware that this apology was some kind of noble Gryffindor posturing, but he found he didn’t mind all that much.  
  
“I shouldn’t have called you a Purebloodist coward,” Potter said.

The term was used to describe people who felt their families needed to be ‘saved’ from Muggles. It was mostly used in association to the Purebloodist extremists who would do anything to keep Muggleborn children from the Wizarding World. The Malfoys _did_ have a reputation of being pureblood supremacists, so it wasn’t like it’d been said without any context.

Lucius gave a tired sigh, “I know what people think of my family.”

If Lucius was being honest, he was envious of Potter. Potter had the freedom to live his life as he saw fit, he didn’t have to hide his personal politics or pretend to be content when he wasn’t. Lucius had always been taught that it was more important to retain familiar and powerful connections than it was to express yourself. It wasn’t fair that James Potter got to do both of those things at once.

Lucius let people infer what they would about his views because it never _hurt_ him that people thought he might be an extremist when he was, in fact, only a ‘traditionalist’. But even that position was becoming more and more difficult to defend as time progressed. Potter was right about him being a coward.

It had been Narcissa who had begun pointing out traditionalist absurdities when they married. She had had family who hadn’t been afraid to shed their Pureblood connections and move on with their lives. But she had kept her own opinions out of sight of the rest of her family because, in the end, she believed in family obligation. As did Lucius.

These days, Lucius wasn’t sure what he believed in anymore. ‘Family’ didn’t have the same weight to it without her. Narcissa would probably have managed today’s conference much better than him. She would have gotten everything handled and finished before the meeting even ended. Instead, Lucius had let himself run his mouth and Draco probably _did_ lie about fighting because he thought Lucius would disapprove.

Potter ran a hand through his messy hair and exhaled noisily, “Listen, I’ll have a talk with Harry, see if I can’t get him to lay off a little.”

Lucius gave him a curt nod, “I’ll speak to Draco about the importance of self-control.”

Potter gave him a nod in return. Then he flashed Lucius a smile. Lucius wasn’t sure how he felt about this man anymore. He didn’t like how Potter seemed to think that his smile worked on anyone. Lucius didn’t like how it apparently _did_.

 

James took his time wandering the castle before he made his way to Gryffindor Tower. Fond memories welled up inside him as he took in the familiar cracks in the wall, the sound of the floor under his shoes, the musky scent of old books and older spells. He was almost envious at how Harry would get to spend the next three years here, learning, exploring, falling in love, fighting…  
  
“Well, if it isn’t James Potter,” The Fat Lady sang at him when he sauntered up to the portrait, “The days seem to run together for us pictures, but I swear I could have fainted the first time I saw your son. It was like looking at a mirror image.”

James grinned at her, “Causes trouble, does he?”

The Fat Lady smirked, “Not nearly enough as I’m sure _you_ _’d_ like-”

She was cut off by Harry bursting out of the common room. “Dad!”

James hugged him and gave the Fat Lady an apologetic grin when she’d swung back into place, “How did you know I was here?”

“The map.”

“Ah, of course.” There was a rush of fondness at the mention of ‘the map’. James and Sirius had found it hilarious when they’d heard Harry ended up with it after all this time. Remus found it considerably _less_ hilarious as he was a teacher and Harry was a handful even at the best of times.

“Let’s go for a walk,” James said, putting an arm over Harry’s shoulders.

They walked down some corridors at random and even through a secret passage that apparently hadn’t seen a new password for the past twenty or so years. They ended up in a disused, sunny corridor. The windows were opaque with dust and cobwebs but it was warm and quiet. The sunset turned the walls a pinkish orange.

“McGonagall asked me to come today,” James started and Harry raised an eyebrow, “She’s worried you and Malfoy are really going to hurt each other one of these days.”

Harry snorted, “Then he should stop acting like a haughty prick all the time, going on and on about his family’s old magic.”

James physically flinched. He could hear those exact words coming out of his own mouth once upon a time. In fact, he was pretty certain he had said something to that effect fairly recently.

“Malfoy’s father and I had a talk and-”

Harry scowled, “Ugh, both of them are pointy-faced, pompous bastards.”

When did Harry start talking like that? It was definitely James’ fault. He was sure of that. Was it too late to start watching what he said? He gave Harry a wary half-smile because he didn’t know what to say. He wanted Harry to have all the freedom in the world to express himself, but maybe there was a limit to how much someone should say about other people. In fact, James thought Lucius Malfoy’s face was sort of nice looking, not that pointy at all.

James sighed, “Listen, I want to tell you a story,” he moved over to one side of the corridor. He spelled the dust away and hoisted himself up onto the window ledge. Harry did the same at the one across.

“There was a boy in my year when I was at Hogwarts. We didn’t get on. In fact, I made _sure_ we never got on.” James told Harry about the boy in Slytherin whom James and his friends had bullied for fun. He was careful not to say his name, careful not to let on that Harry might know him. “I know it’s hard for you to ignore him,” James admitted, “when everything he does is annoying to you… but these things can haunt a person. And one day you might wake up and realize you don’t like who you are.”

“Was that what happened?” Harry asked.

James inclined his head a little, he stared at his shoes, he wasn’t sure how much he should say, “Yes.”

Harry was staring at him and James knew he would have to elaborate, “At your mother’s funeral, this boy… well -a man by then- he was there. We didn’t say anything to each other. We couldn’t. Not after what we’d put each other through and not after…” he trailed off, “well, it doesn’t matter now. But I realized that he was hurting too, but there was no way of reaching across all that distance we’d created. On the worst day of my life, there was someone who might have known what I was feeling and I couldn’t even…” James swallowed, “I couldn’t even thank him for coming. There was nothing but hate and anger there and maybe if we’d ever once treated each other with some kind of respect, maybe I wouldn’t have had to go through that alone.”

Harry was confused, “Wait, so this guy was mom’s friend?”

“He was. Once. Bullying him turned him into someone else… someone hurt and lonely. And when someone is hurt, they lash out at the people closest to them. I hurt him and he hurt Lily and… and it’s a giant circle, Harry. I don’t want you to get caught in something like that.”

“If he came to Mom’s funeral, he couldn’t have hated you.”

“He didn’t come for _me_ , he came for her.”

“So? That’s not _your_ fault.”

James knew he wasn’t getting through to him. “Harry, there might be a time in your life when you need a favour and the only people around you might be the people you’ve hurt. Do you think any of them will help you?” Harry made a face, but James continued, “If that’s fine with you, then fine,” James jumped down from the window and Harry followed suit, “This is the last thing I’ll say about it,” he put his hands on Harry’s shoulders, “Acting like a bully is what cowards do.” These final words seemed to have the desired effect because Harry finally looked lost in thought.

James had always told Harry that Gryffindors were brave above all else, saying something was ‘cowardly’ is about the worst thing he could say about it.  
  
“I’m not a coward,” Harry said moodily, as if daring James to try proving him otherwise.

James poked him in the side, “Then don’t _act_ like one.”  
  
James dropped Harry back off at Gryffindor Tower. Harry still seemed to be lost in thought. But it was anybody’s guess as to what that meant. He could have been thinking about what James said or he could have been thinking about what he was going to eat for dinner that night. James gave Harry a parting hug and told him he didn’t want to have to sit in McGonagall’s office again. He had done that often enough for seven whole years. Then he promised to take Harry to Diagon Alley during the next break.

He left Harry at the Gryffindor common room and went down to Remus’ office to see his friend before making his way back to Godric’s Hollow.

 

Walking down the stone stairs to the Slytherin dorms felt eerily like coming home even though Lucius hadn’t called this place home in a long, long time. Maybe that was why some people got jobs here and never left.

When Lucius got to the bottom floor, Draco was already waiting for him outside the stone wall leading to the Slytherin common room.

“What did she say?” Draco demanded immediately.

Lucius motioned for Draco to follow him and they walked into an old classroom.

Lucius didn’t want to tell Draco that the whole meeting was a waste of time because he and Potter’s father couldn’t be civilized, so he said, “Whatever McGonagall decides to do, I’ve decided to support her decision.” Draco narrowed his eyes at that.

Lucius put a hand on Draco’s shoulder, “Draco, I expect you to act like someone worthy of our family name.” He ignored all the thoughts in his head that were yelling _he_ hadn’t been an example of that today either.

“But, Father, _he_ started it! He always does! He-” Lucius held up a hand and Draco immediately stopped talking, though he looked annoyed even so.

“Really, Draco,” Lucius sighed, “What would your mother say?”

Draco’s eyes widened and grew cold, but he didn’t say anything else.

“If you understand, then I don’t want to hear anything more about you and Potter fighting.”

Draco looked like he was going to argue again but then snapped his mouth shut and stormed away.

Lucius waited until Draco was back in the Slytherin dorms before making his way up to the Entrance Hall. A piece of him knew that he shouldn’t be using Narcissa against Draco like that. But it was more difficult to get his feelings across without it. Still, sometimes her absence felt fresh. And he and Draco had never had a real conversation about it. They couldn’t, they had spent these past two years not talking about it, it would be stranger to start now, wouldn’t it?

 

James told Remus the whole sequence of events. He didn’t leave out any details. He didn’t feel ashamed to admit how immature he’d been, Remus had witnessed him do _far_ more shameful things.  
  
“But you talked to Harry?”

James ran a hand through his hair, “I told him it wasn’t very Gryffindor to bully other kids.”  
  
They exchanged a look, Remus gave him a small smile, “Well _that_ _’s_ a relief.” Neither of them said how it had been an embarrassingly long time before James or Sirius had come to _that_ conclusion.

James sighed and turned his head to stare at the ceiling, “What do I do, Moony? What if he makes all my mistakes?”

“You need to learn to tell him _no_.”

James groaned, “But he looks at me with those big green puppy-dog eyes. I’ll never forgive Sirius for teaching him that.”

Remus snickered, “You always were a hopeless case when it came to Lily’s eyes,” he took a sip of tea, “ _Or_ Sirius’ for that matter.”

James dropped his head into his hands, “I know.”

“We don’t want him to have to learn the hard way,” Remus said, ever the voice of reason.

James remembered the very moment Remus had found out he’d be working on the same staff as Snape. Remus had often taken a backseat in Sirius and James’ bullying, but he couldn’t say he was innocent. There was a lot of bad blood there and James thanked all the magic in the world that he’d never been put in a similar situation. If Snape and him could avoid each other for the rest of their lives, it would probably be for the best. James was always keyed up with anxiety when he came to Hogwarts thinking that it was possible to run into Snape here. But James’ knowledge of the intimate details of the castle let him sneak around practically invisible.

“What about Draco’s father?” Remus picked absentmindedly at something stuck to the table.

“We reached a truce, I think. I’ll talk to my son and he’ll talk to his.”

Remus got up to put the kettle away, “Well that’s good. To be honest, most of the Professors will be relieved to hear that.”

James downed the last of his tea, “What’s his deal anyway?”

Remus hummed. “Lucius Malfoy?” he shrugged, “Ministry worker. Education department. Thinks it gives him some right to lecture teachers about how we teach.” Remus sounded bitter, apparently he’d had run-ins with Lucius Malfoy before.

“That bad huh?” James used his wand to wash his teacup and put it away.

Remus finished with the kettle and sat back down at the table. “He’s been different since Narcissa passed away. I don’t think anyone’s gotten a strongly-worded-letter from him since.”

James nodded, he knew perfectly well how everything in the world was different after someone you loved was gone. James scratched his head in thought. He should have been more composed at that meeting. They were both single fathers trying to raise bratty kids without the person they had always thought would be by their sides. They probably had more in common than they thought. It would have been nice to _talk_ instead of what they’d ended up doing.

“Have you been sleeping?” Remus surprised him by asking, “You look tired.”

James smirked, “You can just say I look like crap.”

Remus smirked back, “Some of us have manners.”

James rubbed a hand over his face, “I finally let Vance talk me into taking a committee position. I’ve been reading paper after paper every night this week.”

Remus raised his eyebrows, “Really? I thought you said committee work was for bored blowhards?” Remus cracked into a smile, “Oh wait, I see it now.”

James snorted. “Well I _am_ bored. Teaching Little League isn’t exactly _rivetting._ _”_ James had never pursued a vocation like Remus and Sirius had. Instead he had been busy raising his son and then once Harry had headed off to school, he’d taken on a variety of volunteer jobs. Working for charities or making appearances at fundraisers. His favourite was coaching kids’ Quidditch and he was also very active advocating for Muggleborn rights.

Remus grinned at him, “Well thank Merlin for that. Keep busy, we all know what happens when James Potter gets _bored_.”

“Best days of your life?”

“Partnered closely with the near _end_ of my life.”   
  
James laughed at that. Then he yawned and stretched his arms over his head, “I’m exhausted,” he stood, “I better head home. See you Friday?”

“Of course.”  
  
Sirius and James met Remus in Hogsmeade every Friday night for dinner. Remus said it was nice to trade the chaos of the castle for a different kind of chaos once a week.

“You know,” James paused, “You’re the only good role model Harry has.”

Remus frowned, “Don’t say that. You’re not a _bad_ role model. Harry worships you, but you know he’s not going to listen to a word you say unless he _sees_ you leading by example.”

James nodded, a tired sigh escaped him. “I know you’re right,” he patted Remus’ shoulder and stepped into the Floo. “In the meantime, don’t let the kid turn into me, okay?”

Remus smirked, “As if I’d let _that_ happen.”  


 

* * *

  
Lucius closed the telephone booth behind him and entered his code that magicked him into the Ministry of Magic elevator. He didn’t need to think at all as his body made the movements on its own. He pressed the button for floor 17 and waited. The elevator didn’t stop on any other level, it was too early for that.

The elevator pinged on his floor and he ignored the empty offices he passed on the way to his own. It didn’t bother him anymore that he was often the first to arrive and the last to leave. In the past he might have accused everyone else of slacking off, but these days he didn’t blame anyone who wanted to spend the evenings or the mornings with their families. It was something Lucius wished he had done more when he’d had the chance. These days there wasn’t anyone waiting on him. Draco was only home twice a year and the rest of the time Lucius just looked for excuses not to go back to the huge, empty manor he called home. When he _did_ go home, he holed up in his office there, extending his work day indefinitely.

Unsurprisingly, there were memos and letters piled up from the hours he’d been away. They never seemed to stop. Most of the time Lucius didn’t mind. He liked to keep busy.

But replying to letters was mindless work and Lucius let his mind wander as his practiced quill ran over his parchment.

He had seen James Potter around, of course. Potter didn’t often socialize with Pureblood traditionalists, but they had sometimes ended up at that same fundraisers. Their social circles didn’t mix much though, so they had never spoken. All Lucius knew about him was from office gossip. He knew that Potter was an only child, that his wife had died in an accident 13 years ago. He knew that James played Quidditch on the Ministry recreational team and coached Little League.

“Oh good,” a voice broke him out of his thoughts, “I was worried I was going to have to drink a pot of coffee by myself.”

Lucius looked up at Emma Vanity standing in his doorway. One of the only other people in the building at this ungodly hour.

Emma and Lucius had been in Slytherin House together, though she was four years younger than him. They had rarely spoken during school but Lucius had saved her during a disaster of a meeting back when she started at the Ministry and they had been something like friends ever since.  
  
Emma was one of the few people in the Ministry offices Lucius honestly liked. Vicious and cunning, she was an exemplary Slytherin in his opinion. She dressed like at any moment she might have to give her Minister of Magic acceptance speech and she wasn’t afraid to use her charisma to get anything she wanted. She may work in the boring Portkey Department as their Chief of Public Relations, but she was one of the least boring people Lucius had ever met. She gave the most entertaining and brutal interviews and could slay any reporter working against her with her eyes alone.

Emma let Lucius hide in her office from time to time when he needed to avoid something or someone. He, of course, did the same for her. The Portkey Department and Magical Education Department didn’t have too many joint projects, so people didn’t usually think to look for them in each other’s offices.

Emma waved her wand and two cups of coffee set themselves down on his desk. Usually they both had someone who made their coffees for them, but it was far too early for that.

“Thank you,” he said and took his cup into his hands.

He took a small sip and grinned at her. Emma always made his coffee just the way he liked it. Emma didn’t typically make coffee for anyone, not even herself, so he felt special on the mornings she wanted to chat.

Emma crinkled her nose, “Is it even coffee anymore when the sugar outweighs the caffeine content?”

Lucius shrugged, not rising to her bait, “What nightmares did you wake up to this morning?”

Emma rolled her eyes as she hoisted herself up onto Lucius’ desk. She blew a breath into her cup that made the steam from it spill over the rim for a second, “I wish I could say it’s this press conference coming up,” she took a tentative sip of her black coffee, “but I got another owl from my father’s solicitor today.”

Lucius hummed, “I see.”

Emma shook her head, “He won’t meet face to face. It’s _my_ estate, he _gave_ it to me. He can’t just take it back.”

Lucius waited to see if she was going to move into a longer rant, but she didn’t appear to want to dwell on it today.

“Anyway,” she said, changing the subject, “I heard you had a summons from the Deputy Headmistress, everything all right?”

“Draco’s been fighting with another boy.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, “And they needed you to go up there for that? Isn’t that like, half of what goes on up there?”

“It’s been… ongoing.”

Emma’s dark eyes widened just a little, “I didn’t think Draco was a big fighter. He’s always reading or writing, quiet stuff, you know?”

“Apparently Harry Potter brings out the worst in him.”

Emma had taken a sip of her coffee and then immediately almost spit it back out, “Oh? James Potter’s kid?” she was suddenly _very_ interested in this story. “The office gossip pool will _love_ that.”

Lucius narrowed his eyes, “I don’t need you feeding my business into the office gossip pool.”

“Hey,” Emma showed him her palm, defensive, “the office gossip pool is omniscient. This will find a way to get there whether I have anything to do with it or not.”

“It’s not _that_ interesting.”

“You don’t think so? Mister Little League Quidditch, number one hottest dad is _always_ of interest to the all-knowing gossip pool. Did you know his classes fill up the fastest? Half the parents who have their kids enrolled don’t even _care_ about Quidditch. They just want an excuse to stare at his ass.”

He choked on his coffee.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice,” Emma said.

Lucius frowned, “I _didn_ _’t_ actually. I wasn’t really in the mood to check out the father of my son’s _bully_.” But she had reminded him of how it had made him feel when Potter had turned to him, hazel eyes full with resoluteness, making Lucius feel sluggish and dull by comparison. And that smile that could definitely be weaponized.

Emma shrugged, unconcerned whether or not she’d offended him, “At least you got an ‘in’. He doesn’t seem to be interested in anything except Quidditch and his son.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Emma hummed, “It’s downright sad that he hasn’t dated all that much since his wife died. That’s a long, long time to go without,” she made a crude gesture, “don’t you think?”

“You’re vulgar. And it’s not an ‘in’,” he glared, “our kids were _fighting_.”

Emma smirked, “Still more interesting than Maddie from the Finance Department’s _captivating_ tale about how she bumped him with her arm once and when she apologized, he _smiled_ at her,” she rolled her eyes. “I want to strangle her every time she brings it up,” Emma’s eyes were shining as she focused on him, “So tell me, what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” he lied. He was not going to tell her how ridiculous he’d behaved. It also unnerved him how she always seemed to know things she shouldn’t know. Though, it was probably something that made her incredibly good at her job.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t be boring. When’s the last time you told me a story that didn’t revolve around Draco or these _memos_?”

“I don’t want to hear that from _you_. You’re here later and earlier than _I_ am and don’t think I don’t know what people say about _me_.”

“Well what they have to say about _me_ is far more flattering.”

Lucius shook his head at her. “Are you done? I have to get through these before I can even think of starting _today_ _’s_ work.”

Emma set down her coffee mug. “Fine. I need to get back to work anyway,” she hopped off the desk, “Can’t hold my reputation as the best in the biz sitting around chatting with _you_.”

“You’re the one who came over _here_.”

Emma clicked her tongue at him as she exited.

Lucius heard the sound of the department door close behind her. When he turned back to his work, he realized she’d left her coffee mug sitting on top of his memos. There was a brown ring sinking into the parchment. He gave the mess an annoyed look. She had absolutely done that on purpose.

 

James took his stacks of papers over to Grimmauld Place. He could focus more easily with Sirius making a ruckus in the background.

Sirius ran a magical motorbike enhancement service out of his home. It combined his love of Muggle technology and his talent for fine-detailed wand work. James loved to watch him work and sometimes he even helped out.

James had been there all morning and must have sighed for the ten-thousandth time because Sirius poked his head up from where he’d been working for the past four hours and said, “Merlin, you sound like you’re studying for the Arithmancy NEWT all over again.”

James shoved the papers away and threaded his fingers through his hair, “Arithmancy was never this _essential_.”

“Relax, you’ll get it.”

Sirius’ faith in him was comforting. He smiled just a little, “Let’s go out. I can't write anymore, I’m blocked.” He was too frustrated to concentrate and they hadn’t gone out for a while. They hadn’t gone for a ride on Sirius’ bike in an even longer time. James used to feel like he practically lived on that thing.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, “Little busy, Prongs.”

“After that then.”

“This’ll take all week probably.”

James groaned. Sirius had been harder and harder to pull along over the years. James supposed it was something like maturity that Sirius didn’t follow after him without a second thought anymore. But it also made him feel a little lonely.

“Come on, blow off work for half a day.”

Sirius frowned, “No way, don’t you have other friends you could bully into truancy?”

“Tons. But they’re not as pretty as you.”

Sirius smirked, “Damn right.”  
  
“Is it truancy if you run your own business?”

“Yeah, but it’s worse because you can’t even get away with it.”  
  
James crossed his arms, “So you’re just going to sit there for a week?”

“It’s for a very important client.” Sirius was back at it, tinkering and magicking.

“They’re _all_ very important clients,” James groaned. It was true, Sirius had quite the customer base. It was a secret, but there were even a couple of mid-level Muggle rockstars who’d found him with a lot of effort.

“Right,” Sirius agreed, “You get it.”

James rolled his eyes, “Well you have to eat sometime. Nobody wants shoddy magic work by a starving dog.”

“Okay, give me like… an hour. Two hours.” James knew Sirius well enough to know that he wasn’t going to get dragged away when he was in the middle of something.

James sighed, “Fine,” he turned back to the papers before him, he’d read through them one more time before trying again, “ _Two_ hours. And don’t do the puppy eyes, you promised.”

 

McGonagall had gathered the support of the other teachers in her plan to force Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy to get along. The other teachers seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief as she laid out her plan. 

The two boys would have detention together every single week until they either learned to respect each other or learned to effectively ignore each other enough to cooperate. McGonagall had a rather large list of chores for the two troublemakers to accomplish for teachers who would be able to relax in the evenings instead. Two weeks in and it appeared to be working wonders. No one had been sent to the Infirmary in twelve days.

The boys groaned as she handed them their newest list. “Same as always, you’ll have until ten o’clock to accomplish as many of these tasks as possible. The sooner you get them done, the sooner you may return to your common rooms.” They would report to her every Friday until the end of term for a new list. “Like before, you may _not_ divide the tasks, you will work together to get them done.”

With that, she sent the boys on their way, ignoring them as they grumbled under their breaths.

 

“This is your fault,” Harry muttered as they tracked their way around the outside of the castle, “If you hadn’t bled so much that last time, I could be at Quidditch practice right now.”

Draco huffed, “It was _you_ who bled on Flitwick’s desk. I had the good sense to bleed in the rubbish like a civilized person.”

They had managed to barely speak to each other for the past two weeks, but apparently the silence war was over.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Will you shut up and look?” Then after a second, “What are we even looking for?”

“Purple truffles,” Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance, “They’re used in potions to make poisons and noxious gases. Though I’m not surprised you didn’t know that since it isn’t written on the back of Weasley’s head.”

Harry grinned, “What’s that? Jealous of his good looks?”  
  
Draco snorted, “Yeah, right.”

“Or mine?”

“Please, you look like you’ve been struck by lightning every day since you were born.”

Harry stalked over to him and for a second Draco thought he was going to hit him but instead Harry ripped the list from his hand. “Where are these purple mushrooms supposed to be?”

Draco felt his heartbeat slow down, “In damp areas without much light.”

Harry looked like he had an idea. His green eyes looked like they were glowing from where Draco was standing. “So a place like the forest?”

Draco crossed his arms, “We can’t go _into_ the forest.”

But Harry was already walking that way. “Why not? You _scared_?”

And Draco was absolutely _not_ scared and to prove it, he followed Harry into the woods.

 

There hadn’t been any purple truffles near the mouth of the forest, so they had gone further and further in. There were lots of mushrooms but none of the sort they were looking for.

Then Draco remembered seeing them somewhere near the Quidditch Pitch and they had turned around. Only… they couldn’t remember which way they had come.

“It’s fine,” Harry said. “I’ll _accio_ my broom.”  
  
“Please do,” Draco said moodily, “And when it smashes into a million pieces hitting all the trees, I hope your team finally gives you the position you deserve. Dirt scraper.”  
  
Harry scowled at him but he didn’t move. “Then what should we do?”

Something moved in the shadows that caused both boys to jump and stand closer together.

“I don’t know,” Draco admitted.

 

It was 10:15 and McGonagall was worried. She had thought the absence of yelling and curses had been a good sign, but now she couldn’t find them anywhere. In the two weeks before, they had always finished by 8:30 at the latest, but now they were past even the late deadline she had given them. When she asked their friends, no one seemed to know where they were.

Finally, a student mentioned she had seen them heading toward the woods. McGonagall scolded the student for not bringing that to her attention immediately and called the other Professors, “And someone get a hold of their fathers.”

 

Sirius’ workspace fireplace sprung to life and Remus’ fiery head asked, “Padfoot, is Prongs with you?”

Sirius put down the tools he’d been holding, “Yeah, why?”

“Harry’s gotten lost in the Forbidden Forest.”

James was already on his feet. “What? When?”

“Sometime this evening. Half the staff is already out looking for him. McGonagall left me in charge of Gryffindor Tower. She wants you to come.”

“Okay,” James said, already moving toward the Floo pot.

“Do you want me to come too?” Sirius asked, he was covered in grease. His hair was tied in a messy ponytail and his face was smeared with all sorts of dirt. He didn’t look anywhere near ready to be pulled away yet.

“No,” James heaved a sigh, “He’ll be fine. That kid could outsmart Death himself. I’ll Floo if I need you.”

“Okay,” Sirius said and patted James’ shoulder as he went to step into the grate. They knew Harry would be fine, not only was Harry quick on his feet, but the forest played definite favourites.

  
After Narcissa had gotten sick, Lucius threw himself into work. It had been his way of coping. When she passed, he hadn’t even taken the two weeks of bereavement leave because he could think of nothing worse than sitting in the empty manor with nothing but memories to torture him. At least at work, he could keep busy and keep his mind off of whatever was bothering him. People generally left him alone at work and he liked it that way

It was late, but Lucius was still there. He was finishing the last few reports he had to look at when there was a knock on his door. He didn’t look up, “What?”

“Uh, did you get my memo?” The department secretary, Libby or Linda or something asked. Shouldn’t she have gone home already?

Lucius continued writing, “I’ll look at it tomorrow.”

“It’s from Professor McGonagall,” Libby or Linda said, she seemed nervous lurking in his doorway, “it’s about your son.”

Lucius stopped writing. “Thanks Lynn.”

Libby or Linda or Lynn or whatever nodded and disappeared again.

 He scanned the note and left immediately.

  
Potter Sr., McGonagall, and two other Professors were waiting for him at the entrance to the woods.

Lucius was furious, “You let _children_ walk into the Forbidden Forest?” he demanded.  
  
“Hey, it isn’t _her_ fault,” Potter instantly jumped to McGonagall’s defense.

“It was probably _your son_ who lead them to wander off!” Lucius glared.

Potter didn’t deny it, “Well that’s a relief because _your_ son doesn’t seem like he could lead a Goblin to gold!”

Lucius clenched his fists. They didn’t have time to fight right now. Lucius hadn’t meant to snap at Potter or at McGonagall but the boys were missing and Lucius wasn’t going to say as much, but he didn’t exactly have faith that Draco could protect himself, alone, here in the Forbidden Forest.

Potter surprised him by muttering, “We’ll find them,” almost as if he was trying to reassure him. And the strangest part was, Lucius _believed_ him. He felt that shiver go down his back again. When Potter’s eyes focused like that, it made Lucius’ mouth dry.

“We should enter the forest and head west,” Potter said, taking control of their group. “It’s the natural way someone’s pulled when they first enter. Let’s hope they didn’t split up.”

Lucius narrowed his eyes, “Spent a lot of time in there have you?”

Potter was focused on the task at hand, “Enough to know my way around. If they came in through this way, they most likely headed west and then north. There’s a kind of magical skip along there that makes you feel like you’ve doubled back. I’ll bet that’s what happened and now they’re lost.”

Potter fixed Lucius for a second with that determined look and it made Lucius swallow heavily. And then he found himself following Potter into the Forest without a second thought. The Professors filed in behind them, their wands out and illuminating the forest. Other teams of teachers had gone through different entrances to the forest.

Lucius walked behind Potter who moved forward with a confidant stride. Potter wasn’t wearing robes, just dark Muggle-style jeans and a red jumper. He had likely been at home when he’d gotten the message. He didn’t seem to be as focused on appearances as Lucius. Even when he was on his way to an emergency, Lucius always found time to check himself in a mirror. He wondered what it would be like to not care what other people thought when they saw him. Was that the secret to Potter’s confidence?

When the man wasn’t being infuriating, Lucius had to admit that he sort of liked him. Lucius found him interesting and he had always liked people who could take charge of situations. It had been a large part of the reason he’d fell for Narcissa. It was why he liked Emma so much.  And even though he sort of wanted to knock Potter over sometimes, he liked that when Potter spoke, it was always the truth whether it was nice or not. There wasn’t any hidden meanings, only raw, unabashed honesty. Lucius had never met anyone like that before.

His father used to say that a man who spoke the whole truth, would get shot down the fastest and the hardest. It was better to bide your time and look for opportunities… but if that was the key to success, why was Lucius so unhappy, while Potter seemed to have it all figured out?

It was easy to see what Emma had been talking about. Potter was clever, confident, and well-off, it wasn’t a surprise that he would garner so much attention, especially from other single parents.

Lucius’ eyes wandered further, she definitely wasn’t wrong about Potter being fit either. Lucius eventually moved his eyes to the forest where he was _supposed_ to be looking.

  
  
Draco had jumped again at something rushing through the brush. Harry would have laughed and made fun of him, but he wasn’t 100% sure what it _was_ and was actually pretty nervous himself. 

“Where are we?” Draco asked again, for the millionth time. “You’ve got us even _more_ lost. We never should have left the path!”

Harry clenched his teeth. “Oh yes and your complaining is really helpful. Could you complain louder so McGonagall or the search party can at least hear us if they’re looking?”  
  
Draco grabbed the back of Harry’s robes and Harry thought that he was trying to start a fight, but when he turned to look at him, Draco was gaping at something. Harry followed his line of sight until they landed on a horrifyingly huge spider watching them from a few paces away. Harry froze, Draco’s hands were still clutching his robes. “What are we going to do?” Draco whispered.

Harry calmly returned, “Shush. Let’s walk backward, _slowly_. 

They took a step back together and then another one. The humongous spider cocked its head.

“Keep going,” Harry whispered.  
  
They took another three steps back and Harry was feeling like they were going to be fine, when he heard Draco in a terrified whisper, “There’s another one!”

Harry turned to the right and sure enough there was another spider, watching them. Harry couldn’t move, he was frozen to the spot with Draco clinging to his shoulder.

And then the spider moved toward them.

 

They were well into the forest when Potter suddenly stopped and Lucius caught himself just in time to not walk straight into him.  
  
Potter looked one way and then the other before turning around to the people behind him, “We should split up here,” he said.

Immediately Lucius felt a bolt of panic, “You want to _what_?” how was that a good idea? Didn’t Potter himself say that that wasn’t a good idea? Lucius knew that he probably looked like a scared child right then, but he did not want to get left alone in the Forbidden Forest.

Potter surveyed him for a quick moment and Lucius was sure Potter could see how much he didn’t want to go off by himself. Potter’s lips quirked and for a second Lucius was sure Potter was going to make fun of him, but surprisingly, _chivalrously_ , he said, “Malfoy, you can stay with me. Professors, you-” but whatever Potter had wanted the Professors to do remained a mystery because there was a scream somewhere close by. The adults ran toward it, hoping to find the children not chewed up by whatever had startled them.

They got there in time to see an Acromantula get shot across the woods.

“Harry!” Potter called.

His son turned to him with wide eyes, “Dad!”

The boys were together and they were okay. Relief coursed through Lucius’ whole body.

Potter pulled Harry into his arms and squeezed him in a tight hug. Lucius and Draco remained at a respectful distance. Lucius felt like he should pat his shoulder or something, but that wasn’t something they often did and he thought it’d be strange if he tried. Instead he asked, “Are you okay, Draco?”

Draco nodded and then said in one breath, “We were looking for truffles but then we got lost and there was a giant spider and it was about to eat us, but then Harry stunned it and I blasted it into the woods.”

Lucius felt a chill go through him. If Harry hadn’t been there, would Lucius have gotten his son back in one piece? Lucius watched the way Draco now looked at Harry. There was barely a trace of animosity. Lucius looked over to the Potters as well. They were talking in quiet voices. Potter hugged Harry again. Harry was grinning like he’d won a game of Quidditch and not just survived a giant spider attack.

“Well,” McGonagall said and cleared her throat, she was slightly out of breath, “Now that our worst fears are put to bed, I think your fathers have something to say to you.”  
  
Both boys stood together and looked expectantly and worriedly at their parents.

Lucius exchanged a quick look with Potter.

“We’re so impressed you managed to fight off an Acromantula,” Potter gushed, he was practically glowing, both Draco and Harry seemed to blush at the praise. McGonagall rolled her eyes.

“But we’re also very disappointed in your lack of forethought,” Lucius said and both children sobered a little. They nodded their heads, sufficiently sorry.

There was a pregnant silence before McGonagall clapped her hands, “It’s late. But tomorrow you will come to my office for a _renewed_ negotiation about your punishments,” the boys groaned, “And you’ll be _grateful_ it isn’t more severe. Now let’s head back,” she instructed and when she raised her wand, pink glowing orbs lit the way through the woods back toward the castle.

“Yes, Professor.” Both boys took off running, immediately turning it into a race.

The adults followed after them, at a much slower pace. The two boys taunted each other as they ran, their voices trailing behind them on the wind. Lucius found it amusing and when he snuck a look a Potter, he was grinning. For once the taunts didn’t turn ugly, they were even almost friendly. Lucius felt himself finally relax.

McGonagall looked behind her. “Well, _you_ ’ve also surprised me tonight,” she said and both fathers exchanged a look between them, wondering what she meant, “between the two of you, you managed to do some decent parenting.”

Lucius guessed that she meant the balance they had seemed to reach reprimanding the children without being too harsh or too lenient.

Both men were quiet, neither one of them thinking there was much they could say to that. Lucius knew he was too stern with Draco, never gave the boy much chance for fun while Potter let Harry have too _much_ fun with little to no consequences. But tonight they had seemed to strike an equilibrium and the boys had seemed to learn their lesson without amassing too much guilt.

McGonagall bade them farewell, sighing as she walked away.

When Lucius turned to look at Potter, Potter was still grinning. The grin did something strange to Lucius, it made him want to blush. It made his stomach feel like it was twirling.

“You were really scared for a second,” Potter said and Lucius narrowed his eyes, realizing Potter was making fun of him, at least he had waited until they were _alone_ , “You thought I was going to leave you in the forest.”

Lucius set his jaw, “I wasn’t,” he denied it even though they both clearly already knew the truth.

“I need a drink after all that,” Potter said, looking at Lucius like that was invitation.

Lucius was suddenly very hot. He loosened his collar, pulling at the fabric, “I’m exhausted,” he said, which was true. He felt like he could fall asleep already, “but I still have work to finish at the office.”

Potter looked disappointed for a second, it surprised Lucius because surely Potter hadn’t been _that_ serious about getting a drink together? But then the next second he was slapping Lucius on the back in a jarring way that would have had Lucius reaching for his wand a week ago. “Right,” Potter said, “So we might not see each other again until school ends. Or that’s what we’re to hope, isn’t it?”

Potter stood across from him and held out his hand. Lucius took it. They clasped hands and Potter squeezed his fingers. It seemed to send a jolt up Lucius’ arm. A fire, that seemed to warm Lucius from the inside out. Lucius looked from Potter’s hand, up his right arm to his shoulder. His grip was firm and despite himself, Lucius found himself staring at the way Potter’s jumper fit. A little tight in the shoulders and upper arms where his muscles looked toned. Quidditch was good to him. The gossip pool wasn’t wrong in that respect. Lucius could understand why a single mom or dad might work a little harder to get their kid in his class…

Lucius realized that he was staring and dropped his gaze.  
  
Lucius found himself reluctant to leave. And as he felt the way his fingers slid away from Potter’s palm, he thought about Emma saying this was an ‘in’. She’d said Potter wasn’t interested in anything or anyone unless it was Quidditch or Harry, she’d also said that Lucius was boring and hadn’t told her a good story in ages.

He hadn’t put any stock in her words at the time, it was gossipy nonsense. And it wasn’t like he’d been looking for a ‘chance’ like this...  But right this moment, there seemed to be some weight behind it. Lucius felt a bit smug that Potter seemed to be interested in _him,_ even if it was fleeting and perhaps just because of this shared experience. Never-the-less, Lucius was uncomfortable with the idea of letting this chance slip through his fingers the same way Potter’s hand was slipping away from his.

It bothered him that once Potter left here, he might never think of Lucius again. Lucius would fall back into obscurity, on the same level as the gossip pool mongers, the Quidditch parents, and _Maddie_ from Finance Department. It bothered him to think that his only interesting story for the next twenty years might be how he once _almost_ had a drink with James Potter.

It bothered him so much that as Potter turned to leave, Lucius opened his mouth and took him up on that drink invitation after all.

 

Lucius had no idea what he was doing letting Potter drag him into a dirty, crowded tavern. Lucius looked down in dismay at whatever it was he had just stepped in. He hoped to Salazar it was beer. Was falling behind on three reports and finally having a non-work-related story to tell Emma really worth _this_?

Potter left him at a table and grabbed them both a beer. Lucius didn’t complain even though he didn’t love beer and thought Potter should have asked him what he wanted to drink. Or maybe this place only served one kind of beverage.

“You’re less stuck up than I thought you were,” Potter said.

Lucius wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an insult, “It’s just the lighting in this place.”

Potter laughed and Lucius really liked his face when he did. It was open and honest, not at all like the quiet snickers of the people Lucius usually hung around with.

“Thanks for blowing off work,” Potter said, grinning and holding out his beer, “Cheers.”

Lucius wasn’t sure he wanted to ‘cheers’ that, but he did it anyway. They clinked their glasses before taking long sips.

Lucius was pretty sure Potter could talk anyone into doing anything. “I’ll have time to finish it tomorrow,” he reasoned, more to himself than to Potter.

Potter was grinning at something and Lucius wasn’t sure what it was, “You’re pretty rules-focused, huh?” Potter’s hazel eyes watched Lucius over sips of his beer, “That why you’re a traditionalist?”

Lucius wasn’t used to these casual types of conversations. Polite company didn’t speak of politics or personal matters. But he had a feeling James Potter was anything but ‘polite’.

“I’m not sure the two are related,” Lucius informed him.

Potter smirked, he set his drink down. “I guess you’re right about that. You can’t be _entirely_ traditionalist,” he said this with a gleam in his eye and he leaned closer over the table.

Lucius blinked, “Why is that?”

Potter was grinning at him like he knew a secret, “Because you wouldn’t be here with me if you _were_.”

Lucius was at a loss, because that was true. No true ‘traditionalist’ hung around people they thought were Blood Traitors. And Potter had married a Muggleborn, was an outspoken Muggle rights activist, and had a history of fighting with Pureblood extremists, the Muggle way. Which is to say, he’d once punched one of them in the face during a conference. Lucius remembered reading that particular story in the papers with a smug satisfaction. He’d never liked McNair and he’d enjoyed the moving picture for weeks afterwards.

“Well, I always thought McNair needed a punch in the face,” Lucius said in lieu of an actual answer, “they say the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Lucius found it attractive the way Potter’s mouth was always a half-smirk, “That’s a _Muggle_ saying,” Potter pointed out.

The truth was, ever since Narcissa died, Lucius couldn’t work up the militant family obligation he’d had before. It was hard to. And even though she wasn’t here to point out the absurdities that Purebloodists depended on anymore, Lucius found that he could rather point them out for himself now. He felt almost _compelled_ to do it. He had always humoured her and listened to her rants. He knew she had family who had betrayed them and gone to live in the Muggle world. But she would never have run. Lucius had humoured her because he knew that she would never have betrayed her family. But now and then Lucius wasn’t so sure about that.

In Draco’s first year, she’d anonymously opposed a proposed ban of Muggle books from Hogwarts. She had tried to hide it from him because he was the one that had proposed it. When he’d found out, he didn’t know what to do except to let it die. The protests he’d sparked died out and the public forgot about it within weeks. He hadn’t had the heart to go against his own _wife_. He had been dumbfounded with her actions. He often wondered what more she would have done if she’d had the time.

She had scolded Draco only once that Lucius could remember. It was after she’d heard him say something about a “Mudblood” getting better grades than him. Lucius had never heard Narcissa so angry and he had never heard Draco say anything like that again. He rather thought that Draco too hadn’t had the heart to oppose Narcissa. She had been a force of nature.

“So why are you an expert in navigating the Forbidden Forest?” Lucius changed the subject. He didn’t need to be dwelling on the past right now.

Potter gave him a mischievous look and said, “I had some strange hobbies as a kid.” The mysterious statement made Lucius curious but he wasn’t going to pry when Potter seemed to want to keep his secrets secret. Lucius had _manners_ , even when he was pretty sure Potter would _love_ to pry all Lucius’ secrets out into the open.

The rest of the evening they talked about all sorts of things, mundane things and things that Lucius was sure would have his mother rolling in her grave. Not that she wouldn’t _already_ be rolling since, as Potter had already pointed out, Lucius was associating with a known Blood Traitor.

The night rolled on in an endless wave of cheap jabs at each other’s egos. Lucius was starkly aware that he had not had this much fun in years. Not since Narcissa had gotten sick. It felt odd to want to smile again, it also made him unbearably anxious. Potter seemed to want to rip him out of his shell and Lucius was far from ready for that.

 

“What I’m saying is you’re _not_ separate from them if you don’t speak up about it.”

They were in the middle of a debate, but unlike their _last_ debate, it was considerably more civil.

“Well it’s fine for you to say, but you haven’t got friends like _mine,_ ” Lucius glared into his tankard which had been filled more times than he could count by now. It tasted less and less like dish water, the more of it he drank. The last two hours had passed by in a blur.

“You’re right I don’t, because I made sure to never get caught in those kinds of webs with those kinds of people.”

“It’s too late for me.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Potter said with such confidence that Lucius _wanted_ to believe him.

Of course Potter thought it was so easy to shed a traditionalist reputation, you simply had to cut all ties from your friends and your family. Those were things Lucius _didn_ _’t_ want to do. He didn’t buy into the Muggle panic that had been closing in on the Wizarding World for the last couple of years, but he also didn’t want to isolate himself from the people he relied on. That would be social suicide. Potter was over-simplifying things. Someone like Narcissa or Potter could make a difference, but Lucius was not that person. He had to remain focused. He wanted a promotion this year and he wasn’t going to get that by rocking boats.

“Our worlds are already connected, we can’t segregate ourselves forever. Think of what we could learn from each other.”

Lucius scoffed, he didn’t want to learn anything from a _Muggle_ , what would they possibly teach him?

Potter seemed to take his scoffing as a challenge. His eyes lit up in a way that made Lucius fearful and a tad aroused. “What do you know about holometabolism?” Potter said in a breathless voice.

Lucius blinked, “Is that even English?”

“It’s a Muggle word, from the Muggle science Entomology.”

Lucius was still lost, “The what?”

“The study of insects. Holometabolim is also called ‘complete metamorphism’. You know what that is?”

Lucius rolled his eyes, “Yes, Potter, I took Transfiguration same as anybody.”

Potter didn’t seem at all affected by Lucius’ snark. “Wizards have this habit of skipping over important bits. The formation of a butterfly for example. A phenomenon in both our worlds. But _we’re_ taught that a caterpillar Transfigures itself into a butterfly, simple, done. It’s magic and we take it for granted. But _Muggles_ ,” his eyes looked manic, “they use _science_ and they understand how the caterpillar _makes_ the transformation. It’s something us, as wizards, never think about. Muggles understand things about butterflies that we don’t. We understand the same thing in completely different ways, but we call it the same thing, _Metamorphosis._ ”

Lucius had to admit that if Potter had been teaching the Transfiguration classes Lucius took in school, he might have paid a _lot_ more attention. Potter had a _gleam_ in his eyes when he was talking, the subject was clearly close to his heart.

“But Muggles still don’t understand _everything_ about butterflies. They don’t have a concept for how magic and the laws of Transfiguration might factor into their equations,” he leaned back in his chair and Lucius wasn’t sure when he had begun to hang on every word, “So imagine, what if we pooled our knowledge about butterflies? What if science and magic worked together and helped us understand our worlds a little better?”

Potter was contagious and Lucius found himself awestruck at the concept. But at the end of the day, there were idealists like Potter and _realists_ like Lucius. “And how many laws would need rewriting in the process?”  
  
Potter looked disappointed in Lucius finding flaws in his fantasy, “Ah, yes, the inconveniences of _rules_.”

Lucius had a sudden glimpse into what Potter must have been like as a child. Complete nightmare.

When Lucius finally looked at the clock he was horrified to realize that it was already morning. He would have to be at the office again in a mere two hours.

 At long last, they reluctantly gathered their things and paid their bills. They walked out together into the early morning.  
  
“This was fun,” Potter said and it only annoyed Lucius a little how non-tired the man looked. He still acted like he was 20 and not 20 plus 14. After a beat, Potter said sheepishly, “Sorry about Harry dragging Draco into the Forbidden Forest.”

Lucius was too tired to hide a sigh, “I’m sure Draco had his own reasons for following him.” Draco might not be a Gryffindor driven by pride, but he sure wouldn’t walk into a situation without weighing the pros and cons first. However Draco had come to the decision that it was worth the risk was his own business and if he had miscalculated, that was his own doing as well.

They said their farewells and Lucius watched Potter disappear into the morning fog, his deep red jumper marking him like a beacon as he faded into the morning. Lucius watched him until he couldn’t see him anymore.

There was a slight pinprick of hollowness that began to creep through Lucius, starting in his chest. He ignored it and turned his collar up against the early chill. He hunched his shoulders and headed back to his dull life filled with boring people. His ordinary, unremarkable existence where no one thought to make fun of his seemingly traditionalist stances, where no one challenged his opinions, where no one expected him to be a better version of himself.

 

That Friday, James had a ton of things to tell Sirius and Remus and only most of it had to do with work.

“How’s Vance?” Sirius asked.

“Same as always,” James grinned, “a whip-cracker.”

Sirius slurped his spaghetti while he said, “Sounds tough.”

James shrugged, “I talk the talk, all she’s asking for is that I walk the walk.”

“I think it’s great,” Remus smiled, “Lily would be proud of you. And Harry will be too.”

James gave him a small smile back, “Speaking of, how’s he been?”

“Surprisingly well, barely any fighting at all. The teachers are amazed.”

Sirius smirked, “Nothing like a night in the forest to straighten you out.”

“You left in a hurry that night,” Remus said to James, “I didn’t see you after that.”

“I had a drink with Malfoy’s father,” James said, as casual as he could. He didn’t know why it felt like a bigger deal than it was, “We went to the Hog’s Head.”

“Wow,” Sirius whistled, “How’d you convince him to take that stick out of his ass?”

Remus elbowed him but Sirius was still grinning, waiting for James to answer.

“He’s not so bad,” James said, “he’s sort of witty when you get him talking.”

“What did you guys even talk about? You’re telling me nobody got hexed?”

James laughed, “No, it was perfectly civil,” he’d been about to take another bite from his plate, but he put his fork down instead, “Actually, he helped me get over my writer’s block.”

Remus looked surprised, “That’s wonderful.”

Sirius looked skeptical, “ _Lucius Malfoy_ had some insights on your big, secret project?”

“Well… no. I didn’t mention it, but he reminded me of something Lily used to say. That sometimes I forget I’m a Pureblood. She was right, of course. A Blood Traitor isn’t the same as being Muggleborn. He helped me remember who my audience is. He got my thoughts focused.”

“Well,” Remus added, “that’s a pleasant change from last time.”

James shrugged, “Just taking your advice. I can’t expect Harry to act mature when I never seem to manage it myself,” he looked at both his friends earnestly, “and I think this thing with Vance is going to happen, I can feel it.”

They were going to change the world. James’ eyes had gone hazy as he imagined what their future might look like, once all the hard work was done. But in the meantime, when he refocused back to the present, his friends were waiting to crack more jokes at his expense.

 

Lucius sat at his desk, trying to concentrate, but he had been staring at the same piece of parchment for the last half an hour. It wasn’t that he had any pressing tasks to accomplish, it wasn’t even that this particular piece of parchment was tedious, he actually wasn’t thinking about the parchment at all. The subject of his distraction, was namely, James Potter. Or more specifically, his arms. And his shoulders. And maybe his chest too. Quidditch-toned muscles underneath that crimson jumper that would have looked completely garish on anybody else.  
  
At first, Lucius had thought he was only annoyed with him. Potter had a way of seeping under Lucius’ skin and everything he had said while they were arguing in McGonagall’s office that first time had made Lucius want to fight. But now Lucius realized there was another reason he had been overly sensitive to everything that came out of his mouth.

Lucius hadn’t felt attracted to anyone since Narcissa. But then in that stuffy, hot room, with McGonagall leering at them and Potter lounging on his chair like he was at home. And his ridiculous smirk and his messy, yet fetching hair, the way his eyes shone in any sort of lighting, and the way his voice got deep when he was being serious about something … it had got to Lucius more than he wanted to admit.

And then that night in the tavern had only fuelled those fires. His loud laughter when he thought something was funny, the way he’d lick his lips before saying something he knew was going to start an argument, the way he had looked Lucius right in the eye and said, “You can’t be _entirely_ traditionalist,” and he was right because if Lucius were a true traditionalist he wouldn’t be fantasizing about pulling that red jumper off and-  
  
It wasn’t fair. Lucius was a grown man for crying out loud! Why did he have to sit here in a stupor because he couldn’t stop imaging what it might be like to press his mouth against those muscles? What would they taste like?  Grass and sweat. How would they feel? Smooth and warm.  
  
It wasn’t his fault. It had been a while now since he’d _been_ with anyone. Since he had even _wanted_ to. And then Emma had said what she’d said and now… And now he felt even more tired than before. He needed a couple more Sleep-Naught potions and an entire jug of coffee.

Emma had said that Lucius wasn’t interested in anything outside work and that had been true because everything Lucius surrounded himself with was boring. Having Potter’s attention, even for that short little while had sparked something inside of him. A discontent. It was like he was trying to adjust back into his black and white life after being shown what colour was.  
  
Lucius jumped when a new stack of memos flew into the room. He shook his head, he had to stop lusting like some adolescent. He had a job to do and James Potter _was not_ going to distract him any longer. Lucius grabbed his quill and tried to focus on work.

It was also a part of his work when he sent a memo to the Achieves Department and asked to see the Recreation Quidditch Team photos in _Quidditch Weekly_ for the past few weeks. Yes, _work_ , he told himself. James Potter would be in them, he remembered Emma gushing about it. But that wasn’t why Lucius needed to see them. Really.

 

“You’re in an awfully good mood,” Sirius said.

James hadn’t even realized that Sirius had stopped working and was watching him now with a curious expression. James had been too engrossed in what he was writing.

“Am I?” he asked, pausing for only a second before putting his pen back to his notebook. He always wrote with Muggle instruments, they were more convenient.

He could feel Sirius’ eyes burning into him. He was determined to ignore it. He didn’t want to tell Sirius how imagining Lucius Malfoy seemed to make the words _flow_ from his pen. Arguing with Malfoy in his head was effective. It was much better than imagining the theoretical Purebloodists that he had created. Malfoy was far more interesting. James could imagine perfectly how Malfoy would drawl certain words, emphasize certain other words. He could remember, in perfect detail, the looks Malfoy had given him that night in the tavern, part annoyance, part intrigue. That was exactly what James was aiming for.

“Can’t I just be in a good mood?” he finally said because Sirius’ staring was making him antsy.

“Sure, whatever,” Sirius turned back to his work and James went back to concentrating on his.

 

The days all blended together like usual. The only way Lucius ever knew the date was by looking at which numbers were written on the memos that flew into his office. It was late October already and the days went on, spinning around him as he narrowed his focus on work. That night with James Potter seemed like a distant memory, Lucius wasn’t even one hundred percent sure he hadn’t hallucinated it. Either way, it didn’t matter, they hadn’t exchanged contact information or said they’d do it again. With Harry and Draco seemingly at a truce, there had been no incidents in almost a month. There was no reason to think that Lucius would see James again, except at King’s Cross Station four times a year.

Lucius welcomed the distraction of Emma sauntering into his office and shutting the door behind her. He put his quill down and leaned back in his chair. She grinned at him, “Mind if I hide out for a while?”

“Who is it this time?” he asked, “Rogers? Voss?”

She sighed and took a seat on his desk, not the guest chairs like a normal person. “ _Drake_ in Finances,” she said, crossing her long legs, “if he comes at me again today, I swear I’m going to shred that tacky yellow tie right off his neck.”

Lucius couldn’t help a smirk, “You’d be doing the world a favour.”

She ran a hand through her thick, dark hair, “What have you been up to? Something more exciting than work, I hope.”

Lucius rolled his eyes, “Some of us outside the Portkey Department _do_ actual work.”

She smirked back at him, “Pity, that.” She had her hands resting on the desk behind her, but she sat up straight when she noticed one of the _Quidditch Weeklys_ on his desk. She grabbed it before he could move them away.

“Why are you reading _these_ all of a sudden? You thinking of joining the Rec team?”

Lucius shook his head. He hadn’t told her about the drinks with Potter. He had thought that he wanted to tell her all about it, make her envious or entertained, but then he had started to like having intimate information about Potter. He didn’t want to share it. He especially didn’t want it to end up in the all-seeing gossip pool. “I was curious, since you couldn’t stop talking about it.” He hadn’t given the papers back to the Archive Department. A mere oversight, really. It wasn’t like he was _holding_ _onto_ them or anything. He’d give them back when he felt like it.

Emma’s eyes turned dark for a minute, “I just thought it was sort of hilarious that Potter and Talkalot are playing on the same recreational team.”

Emma had been Slytherin captain for four years. She’d passed the captaincy to Lucinda Talkalot who was two years younger than her, the same age as Potter.

“Did they get along?” Lucius asked, because he couldn’t help the desperate urge to know more about Potter’s life.

Emma laughed, “Are you kidding? When did Slytherins and Gryffindors ever get along? They nearly killed each other every time they stepped out onto the Pitch. I went to every match because I couldn’t wait to see how Talkalot would knock Potter off his broom _this_ time.”

“And now?” Lucius wondered. If they were playing on the same team, they had to at least tolerate each other.

Emma scoffed, “Now?” she was flipping through the pages, “Merlin, if they weren’t shagging before, they probably are now,” she found the page she was looking for and handed it to Lucius, “Watching them together makes my skin crawl.”

Lucius didn’t have time to think about what Emma meant by that. His eyes studied the page, which he had already seen multiple times, but he had always been focused on Potter alone. Now he took in the whole image, a team photograph. They were crowded together around the trophy they had won. This time, Lucius paid attention to how close Potter and Talkalot stood. How they seemed to be talking with their eyes. James grinned at her and she smirked back. They held the trophy between them, their shoulders bumped, Talkalot knocked him a bit with her hip.

“The reporter calls their team work ‘inspired’,” Emma said, bored, “but they play like they couldn’t reach a compromise. It’s like watching a flock of birds get confused. They’re _Chasers,_ they should at least be able to-”

Emma had started in on a Quidditch rant that could last for an hour depending on how worked up she got. But Lucius wasn’t listening. He suddenly felt like there were tiny rips becoming gaping holes where that hollowness he’d felt before was growing.

Eventually Emma decided it was safe to go back to her office and she left Lucius alone.

He was angry. So a month ago Emma hadn’t meant that Potter wasn’t interested in _anyone_. If she thought Potter and Talkalot were together, why would she have said that to begin with? Lucius felt like someone had played a trick on him. So it wasn’t so _special_ that Potter had wanted to go drinking together. It had only been Emma’s speculation after all. He was glad he didn’t tell her anything about that night.

The end of the day could not come soon enough. Lucius was finally just about out the door when a late day memo flew into the room and landed on his desk. He would have ignored it, left it for tomorrow, except that the envelope was black with silver trim. Someone had died.

He opened the envelope and pulled out the short note. It was Wilkes, an old friend. He had been younger than Lucius and situations like that always put one’s mortality into perspective. The funeral was set for that Friday, the 31st. Lucius slipped the note into his pocket and headed home.

 

Lucius hadn’t been to a funeral since Narcissa’s. That had been two years ago already but standing in a graveyard now, watching the small group lower an old friend of his into the ground, brought back all the painful memories. It hadn’t been this graveyard, Narcissa had insisted on being buried near Wiltshire, but the general atmosphere was the same. Gloomy. The sky was overcast and Lucius was glad for it. Who wanted to attend a funeral in the glaring sunlight?

The ceremony was quiet and sparsely attended, a true testament to how Wilkes had lived his life. He’d hated people, he’d hated noise. He wanted to be left alone most of the time. Still, Lucius had considered him a friend and when Narcissa had passed, Wilkes had sent him a packet of magical plant seeds. Lucius had been confused at first before realizing that they were Narcissa’s favourite.

After the service, Lucius said goodbye to the small crowd and made his way across the graveyard to where there was a Floo in the room next to the chapel. As he was walking something caught his eye. A flicker of red scarf between the grey and white. He stopped in his tracks.

If Lucius had let himself think about what he was doing, he would have continued on to the Floo. He never would have walked over to where James Potter was hunched over his late wife’s tombstone. Of course by the time Lucius realized what a bad idea it was, it was already too late.

Potter was staring at him like Lucius had Apparated right in front of him. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his eyes wide with something Lucius’ didn’t know how to interpret.  
  
“Ah,” Lucius stammered, “I- there was a friend of mine who- he- well, _died_ and-” it occurred to him that he had no good reason for why he’d marched over here so he muttered, “I’m sorry, I’m going to go,” he turned to leave, the awkwardness of the encounter roasting his cheeks. The man was visiting his wife’s grave for crying out loud! Why had Lucius walked over here?

But Potter immediately said, “It’s fine, you don’t have to go,” he didn’t _look_ like a man in mourning. Though his wife _had_ passed away nearly thirteen years ago.

Lucius had turned back around. He looked down at the white flowers Potter had placed on her grave, “Lilies,” he said softly.

“She hated lilies,” Potter said fondly, “I bring them just to piss her off. I used to think if I pestered her enough, she’d spring back to life to kick my ass.”

Lucius wasn’t sure if it was okay to laugh at that or not, but he found himself struggling not to smile. The awkwardness disappeared. Lucius started to feel something again, standing here, chatting with Potter. But they were over his wife’s grave for Merlin’s sake! Lucius tried to reign in his emotions.

Potter motioned to a nearby bench. “Today’s the anniversary of when she-” Potter swallowed, cutting himself off, “Anyway, today I wanted to tell her all about our son’s bad habits, all of which he obviously got from me.”  
  
“Kids make mistakes,” Lucius said following him over to the bench, “and so do their parents.”

Potter sat down on the bench. He sighed, “Harry’s the best part of my world. But sometimes it’s… frustrating,” he had his hands in his pocket and he tilted his head up to look at the sky, for once Lucius thought Potter actually looked his age, “I knew having kids wasn’t going to be easy…” he trailed off for a second, Lucius didn’t interrupt him, “I just… never thought I’d be doing it _alone_ ,” he hesitated, then sighed again, finally looking over at Lucius, “I’m sure you don’t need to hear all this from _me_.”  
  
Lucius sat on the bench beside him, “Actually, it’s kind of comforting,” he said, “It’s been two years, no one wants to hear about it anymore. I think about it everyday, even now, yet everyone would like me to pretend that it’s over.”

Potter nodded solemnly, “It never gets easier.”

“Parts do,” Lucius offered.

“That’s true,” Potter grinned at him and Lucius felt a squirming in his stomach.

Why did James Potter make him feel like a young boy again? They sat in companionable silence for a long while.

After what felt like forever in no time at all, Potter said, “I guess I should go.”

Lucius didn’t want him to, but he couldn’t say as much. He couldn’t say, _Don_ _’t go_ , because he wasn’t even sure why he wanted that. Because every time they talked he remembered what an honest conversation felt like? Because it’d been longer than he could remember since he didn’t feel like he had to wear a carefully constructed facade? Because Potter made him feel young again? Lucius couldn’t convince himself that any of those things were worth speaking. When Potter finally did get up and leave with a friendly grin as a parting, Lucius felt like a burnt out match. Like the flame that had been growing inside of him had been blown out of existence by his own inaction.  


* * *

 

Lucius was confused. He had thought he understood what he wanted from Potter.  It had been simple lust… hadn’t it? He wasn’t sure anymore.

That short talk in the cemetery seemed to have thrown everything up in the air for Lucius. The hunger was still there. The curiosity, about how he might smell, how he might _taste_ , but it was accompanied by something else. A deeper rooted curiosity. A desire to know him even beyond his physical attributes 

He wanted to talk like they did in the cemetery and at that godawful tavern, about important things and about unimportant things.  About hard topics and soft ones. He wanted to know his thoughts about everything. Literature, Wizarding Arts, Astrology. He didn’t care what they talked about, he just wanted to see him again.

He thought about telling Emma, but he hated the idea of giving her even more leverage against him. And what if all this schoolboy crushing amounted to nothing? Having a witness to that seemed unbearable.

So for now, Lucius felt that it would be better if he kept these new realizations to himself.

 

James threw his glasses onto the coffee table and rubbed his temples. He’d always been good at arguing when it didn’t ultimately matter. Now that what he was trying to argue for _did_ matter, the words wouldn’t fall into place. It seemed that whatever inspiration Lucius Malfoy had filled him with before had finally flickered out. And he had wanted to talk and argue some more that day in the graveyard, but that had seemed too disrespectful. Besides, he didn’t want to have to rely on someone else to be able to do his job.

He was going to owl Vance again, but it would be the third time that night. Instead, he reached over the side of the couch and picked up a Quaffle. He tossed it into the air above his head and caught it. He needed to collect his thoughts.

As soon as he’d eased all the political jargon out of his head, his mind turned to focus on the other thing that had been taking up his concentration lately. A pair of grey blue eyes that looked like the sky after a thunderstorm. Eyes that had seemed different than the ones James had been imaginary arguing Pureblood politics with.

It’d been a few days since they had met in the graveyard, which for all intents and purposes, was a pretty ominous place to develop a crush on someone. Not to mention it had been the anniversary of his wife’s _death_. Not exactly a favourable outlook, even for someone who didn’t believe in Divination to begin with.

He had stopped dragging Harry to the graveyard when Harry turned eleven. He didn’t want Harry to miss the Halloween Feast at Hogwarts just to remind him like clockwork that he had never known his mother. So James had been going there alone for the past three years. He never asked Sirius or Remus to go with him because he didn’t mind being alone there. Or at least he didn’t _think_ he’d minded. When Malfoy had appeared out of nowhere, James had felt a spark somewhere inside him. And even though the graveyard was where James had become aware of his feelings for the other man, he was pretty sure they hadn’t _started_ there.

He wasn’t sure where it had begun. In the forest? In the tavern? In his own head as he imagined their prolonged discussions about life and death and Wizarding laws? It had happened gradually, he hadn’t even noticed it. It wasn’t at all like how he remembered crushes feeling. Like the first time he saw Lily and he had _known_ right then that they were destined for each other.

For the past month he’d thought about their time in the tavern on and off. It had been fun but he hadn’t been caught up in thinking that it might happen again. James tended to run his mouth off in those situations, he shouldn’t have so gleefully picked Malfoy’s life apart. He didn’t think Malfoy would have _wanted_ to spend more time with him after that. He hadn’t let himself hope for it.

He tried to remember what Lucius Malfoy had been like in school, but he couldn’t recall. James had been in first year when Malfoy was in seventh and James hadn’t paid attention to anyone besides his new friends and the girl who had taken his breath away the first time he saw her.

Thinking of Lily didn’t hurt. It was something comforting. Sometimes when he felt like he needed some of her advice, he imagined he could hear her voice coming from the clouds.  
  
“What would you say about _this_ , Lil?” he wondered.

She’d think it was hilarious. She’d hold her sides and laugh, that loud, boisterous laugh that James missed. He had a crush on a traditionalist _Ministry_ worker? It was very much outside of his usual type. Did he even _have_ a usual type? Sirius said he did. James had never thought about it because… well, _Lily_ was his type. He’d dated a few people over the years, but it never lasted very long. James told himself it was because he was a hopeless romantic and what he’d had with Lily had been ‘true love’.  After his other failed relationship, he was certain that he’d used up whatever love had been destined for him already.

James put the Quaffle down and picked up his wand, he waved it at the dishes and the laundry. He had to stop sitting around _wondering_. It didn’t matter. Harry would be coming home for winter vacation in a little over a month and life would be hectic like it always was.

James busied himself with chores, determined not to dwell on it anymore. It was just a crush, there was no reason to make it a big deal. It would pass soon enough.

Sirius and Remus filled most of his social needs and it was nice to see them as often as he did, but maybe he was actually going a little stir-crazy. Maybe this crush was developing because it was the first time he’d been out with someone new and interesting in a long while. He could have had half that essay done weeks ago if he’d thought to talk to someone other than Sirius once in a while. If that was the case, he would need to get out more often without his trusty sidekicks.

He was tidying up a stack of letters, when he took a second to look at the heavy looking invitation he’d received recently. The Magical Sports and Games Department was throwing a party. He usually threw Ministry invitations out without a second thought. Who wanted to spend an entire evening sporting a fake smile and making small talk with boring strangers? But if his problem was that he wasn’t meeting enough people… this had to be the solution.

 

On Friday, James met Remus and Sirius in Hogsmeade for dinner like always. 

James told them about his conclusions about Lucius Malfoy because he didn’t keep anything from them. Though he was starting to wish that he did.

Sirius’ snorted laughter was loud, he never even tried to be subtle. “Oh yeah, he’s your type alright.”

James had forgotten that Sirius and Malfoy had been technically related for a while. James remembered when Narcissa had died, Sirius had gone to the funeral.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” James frowned.

Sirius raised his eyebrows, like he was shocked James hadn’t already figured it out, “Tall, pretty, and probably won’t give you the time of day?”

James stared at him and both Remus and Sirius burst into helpless laughter. 

James groaned into his hand, he _did_ have a type. Then he said, “Then why did you try to hook me up with your friend Tanith a few months ago?”  
  
“Social experiment. Clearly it was doomed from the start,” Sirius said, “she was quiet,” he said, like it was an insult.  
  
“Not to mention a fraction of a centimetre shorter than you,” Remus added which caused him and Sirius to burst into laughter again.  
  
James rolled his eyes. “All right, since you are having _way_ too much fun with this, we’re changing the subject.”  
  
Sirius was still laughing.

“Vance wants this thing done next week, I don’t know how much longer I can read the same papers over and over again. They don’t even make sense to me anymore.”

“Do you want me to have a look at it?” Remus offered kindly.

“Would you?” James was hopeful, “I can’t stop thinking that I sound like a prat the way it reads.”

“Well there’s no helping that,” Sirius snarked and James kicked him under the table.

“Sure,” Remus said, “Owl me tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” James said, “I need _one_ day without it hanging over me.”

“You need more than a _day_ ,” Sirius frowned, “You have to tell Vance that she’s working you too hard.”

James shook his head, “I can’t do that. She’s counting on me.”

“Well take more than just a day off,” Sirius said.

James raised an eyebrow, “That coming from _you_? You don’t even eat unless I remind you to.”

Sirius shrugged, “The difference is I _love_ my work. Emmeline is bleeding you dry.”

“Sirius is right,” Remus said, “I know this initiative is important, but you can’t let it drain you. The fight is still coming.”

James nodded, he knew they were right. “Well you’ll be pleased to know, I _do_ have plans for next weekend.”

“You mean you’re really going to attend that Ministry Gala?” Remus asked.

Sirius groaned and made a face like he’d sipped some sour milk, “Ugh, all those stuffy Ministry people? What if it’s as boring as it sounds?”

“Then I’ll be sure to tell you all about it in full detail,” James said.

Sirius covered his face with his hands, “Oh God, anything but that!”

 

After dinner James went home with Sirius so they could watch what Remus called, “Their horrible Muggle drama shows”. Lily had called them ‘soap operas’ and had gotten Sirius and James addicted many moons ago. They still watched them, when James could pull Sirius away from work long enough.

They usually watched until they had both fallen asleep and the first one to wake up in the morning had to try and remember which episode they were on.

James woke up when he smelled eggs. His neck was sore from the awkward way he’d fallen asleep on the couch. He yawned and forced himself to get up.

In the kitchen, Sirius was pouring a delicious looking mug of coffee. “Morning, Darling.”

“Morning,” James yawned again, “Are you working again today?”

Sirius shook his head, “Nah, my job today is to make sure _you_ don’t work.”

James frowned, “But-”

“I already sent your stack of papers to Remus. His impassioned reply is right there,” Sirius pointed with a spatula to where he’d stuck the note on the refrigerator.

It read, ‘I hate you’.

James groaned, “There were 89 pages, you should have let me-”

“No. No working. You are banned from speaking of it. Remus’ll wade through it and you can get refocused on _Monday._ ”

James knew there was no point in trying to argue with Sirius. He’d just cheat and do the eyes.

“Eat your eggs,” Sirius said coming around the table to put the coffee cup and plate down. He pinched James’ cheek, “You’re a growing boy.”

 

They managed to fit in ten more episodes of _“Be Still My Aching Heart”_ before James remembered they needed to submit their winter schedule for the Ministry Rec Quidditch team. Since they couldn’t play outside during the winter, they’d have to use one of the Ministry facilities. The team had left them in charge of it as Vice Captain and Assistant Vice Captain (a position James had made up in order to get Sirius to help him).

“Let’s just owl it,” Sirius groaned from where he was sprawled across the coach and James’ legs.  
  
“We’ve been sitting here for three and a half hours already,” James pointed out, “We might as well get lunch while we’re out.”

Food was always the best motivator.

“Fine,” Sirius said and managed to make it sound like the word was ten letters long, “After we find out who Mary’s real husband is.” He pulled the remote control out of James’ hand and pressed play.

 

They did finally make it to the Ministry and even managed to find the Magical Sports and Games Department on their first try. They usually got lost at least twice, but that was because Sirius couldn’t resist a mysteriously open door.

They left the forms with a young-looking department employee and made their way back through the maze of Ministry doors.  
  
“Let’s try the cafeteria,” James suggested and Sirius didn’t have any better ideas.

Inside, Sirius got a hamburger that looked bigger than his mouth and James got something he couldn’t pronounce and was wrapped up in some kind of purple leaf. They took a table by the windows.

“Who pays a galleon for a wrap?” Sirius sniffed at him.

James shrugged, “It looked good.”

“It looks like a cocoon.”

James took a bite of it, “I like cocoons,” he said with his mouth full.

Sirius rolled his eyes and took an impressive bite of his burger. Sirius had managed to smear half the condiments on his face. Then he licked his lips in an exaggerated fashion just because James was watching him.

“You’re disgusting,” James informed him.

Sirius blew him a kiss.

James’ eyes caught a familiar gait in the doorway behind Sirius and immediately tuned in to where Malfoy had entered the room. James had completely forgotten that he worked here.

Malfoy was making his way against the crowd, apparently looking for someone. His face was usually a mix of stern and annoyed. He glanced around him like he couldn’t be bothered with anyone here. His tall frame and the contrast between his dark robes and his light hair and features gave him a dignified, almost royal look. When he moved you could get a glimpse of what he was wearing underneath the robes. A dark button down shirt and a black vest with muted silver buttons. His hair was pulled back behind his head and fastened with a dark green tie accentuating his masculine jaw line. James felt a warm surge of something awaken in his chest. His heart leap as Malfoy scanned the crowd. What would happen if they saw each other?

But then Malfoy found who he was looking for. A tall, dark woman with a confident smile and James _definitely_ remembered her. She’d been Slytherin Quidditch captain during James’ first four years at Hogwarts.

Emma Vanity held up two boxes she was holding that were presumably lunch and Malfoy gave her a rare grin. James’ chest felt tight. He could read Malfoy’s lips, ‘let’s go’ and then they were headed back out the door to who knew where.

Sirius was staring at him, staring at him _hard_.  
  
“What?” James asked, defensive.  
  
“You know…” Sirius started, but then trailed off. “Ah, never mind.”  
  
“What?” James said again.

Sirius sighed, “The last time I saw you looking at someone that way…”

“What way?” James was confused.

“ _That_ way,” Sirius reached across the table and flicked his forehead. “The way your eyes get when you see Malfoy or when you’re _thinking_ about him.”  
  
James frowned, “How can you tell who I’m _thinking_ about?”  
  
Sirius crossed his arms, sensing a challenge “You wanna go, Potter? I know _every_ thought in that thing you call a brain.”

James glared, but he knew that was more or less true. “Fine,” he relented, “What are you talking about?”  
  
Sirius turned back to his food, almost as though he didn’t want to see James’ face when he said, “I haven’t seen that look on your face since...” He stuffed more of his burger into his mouth.  
  
James stared at him. This was just a crush, a stupid crush. There would never be anyone like Lily or maybe Sirius had meant...

“I just need to… I don’t know,” James fidgeted, “Maybe if I was having it off with someone-”

Sirius nearly choked laughing, “ _Having it off_ with someone?”

James narrowed his eyes, “Why’s that funny?”

Sirius was still choking, he hit his chest to dislodge the food. He leaned across the table, his eyes bright with laughter, “You’re talking like you’re up for a romp and we both know that’ll never happen.”

“It could!” James pouted.

Sirius gave him a look that was part pity and part love, “You chased a girl for _ten years,_ and _then_ you shagged, and then you got _married_.”

“Lily was,” James stared at the table, “special.”

Sirius finally stopped laughing, “I know,” he said seriously, “but jumping in bed with somebody isn’t going to make you happy. And we both know what-” he cut himself short and James was glad he did.  
  
“I know,” James said, just to get them away from that particular subject, “It’s just a crush. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Sirius shrugged again. He took a big bite out of his hamburger. James tried not to look impressed and/or disgusted that he’d managed to fit it all into his mouth. “Fine. It’s just a crush.”

James wrinkled his nose, “Ugh, don’t talk with your mouth full.”  
  
  
Lucius had let Emma convince him to leave his office for lunch. She had bribed him. 

She handed him a box containing his cherished strawberry puff cake which was only available in Muggle London on Tuesdays before nine. They had come up to one of the upper-levels for privacy because Emma didn’t like to talk about personal things in public and Lucius didn’t need anyone else learning and exploiting his secret weakness for Muggle sweets.

Lucius had thought that she wanted to talk about her ongoing battle against her father for power over her estates, but today she was bragging about getting her hands on an advanced copy of the guest list for the upcoming Magic Sports and Games Gala.

Galas were formal events held by various Departments of the Ministry throughout the year. Each Department had their own agendas and their own tricks to get the workers from other departments to attend their parties. It was something like an informal competition. Everyone wanted to have the best attended, most spectacular Gala. Lucius didn’t go to them anymore, hadn’t since Narcissa passed. They no longer seemed like fun without her dry comments and wicked sense of humour.

“It’s quite the line-up,” Emma mused as she perused the list again. “Probably because it’s the last party before the kids come home for Christmas. Macdonald, Nott, Merlin even Jeri is going, Potter, Rosier-”

Lucius had nearly choked on his cake. “What?” he asked, “Potter’s on there?” For as long as Lucius had been working at the Ministry, he couldn’t recall a single time James Potter had made an appearance at a Ministry formal function unless it was one of his pet fundraisers.

Emma frowned, displeased at being interrupted, “Oh yeah, his RSVP caused a whole scene. Didn’t you hear? I thought Maddie was going to start foaming at the mouth. If he’s out dating again, there’ll be a line out the door, that’s for sure. Maddie was driving everyone batty asking for his address so she could put herself on his dance list right away.”

Lucius was lost in thought. Since when did Potter go to these events? And was it true he was dating again? It made Lucius anxious to think that Financial Department Maddie might make a move.

Lucius tried to act casual, “Have you… talked to Maddie since then?” He needed to know.

Emma frowned, “You mean do I know if she asked Potter out? I haven’t seen her, but I’m sure if she’d managed to hook him, we’d _all_ have heard about it by now.”

Relief calmed Lucius’ thumping heart.

“Magical Maintenance Department is going to have a tough follow up in January after _this_. It’s going to be one hell of a party,” she lowered the list a fraction to look at Lucius, “Speaking of which, I _still_ don’t have a date.” Her eyes were bright and she raised one perfect eyebrow at him. Lucius was beyond sure that all Emma had to do was blink at someone and they would agree to go with her. Why she refused to go with anyone except _him_ was a mystery.

Lucius knew what she was getting at, but he hadn’t gone to any of those parties in at least three years. Everyone seemed so much younger these days while Lucius felt so much older. But if Potter was suddenly going to Department parties, maybe Lucius should go as well. How could he pass up an opportunity like that? And at least if Potter ended up dating someone, Lucius might get a grip back on his life. He wasn’t sure how much more of this schoolboy pining he could handle. Wasn’t there an expiration date on these things?

“I’ll go with you,” he said and then to not seem so eager, “but it’ll cost you.”

Emma looked like she was going to fall out of her chair. “Really?”

“Sure,” he tried to sound indifferent, “But I need white chocolate scones from that place in Wales and those chocolates wrapped in the gold foil.”

Emma was grinning wider than he’d ever seen her. “Yes! I’ll buy them tomorrow. I promise, we’ll have so much fun!”

Lucius raised an eyebrow at her, she wasn’t the type to get over-excited about anything. He asked cautiously, “This isn’t a ‘date’, right?” He was certain she didn’t like him _that_ way, but with the evidence…

Emma made a noise with her mouth, “Psssht, yeah, like I’d want to date _you_ ,” she rolled her eyes, “I need you to make me look good.” Lucius wasn’t sure whether he should be offended or not. But one of the reasons he liked her was because she always seemed to have some secret plan in the works. And she was always upfront about how she used her pawns.

“Then we have a deal,” Lucius said and took another bite of his cake. White chocolate scones and Potter in formal wear. The week was looking up already.  
  
  
James had been avoiding his mailbox for the past week. Ever since he’d said he would attend the Magical Sports and Games Gala, he was getting letter after letter asking him who he was going with. He hadn’t even thought about that. He had sort of thought he would go alone.

He didn’t look at the mailbox as he made his way down the street to where he could comfortably Apparate to Quidditch practice. He didn’t want to think about all those people waiting for a reply. Luckily, there was nothing like Quidditch to take his mind off of everything.

When he arrived, the others were already warming up. He went to stand near Lucinda Talkalot, who was stretching on the ground. “Alright, Talkalot?”

Lucinda smirked up at him, “Alright.”  
  
As James started his stretches, he should have known Lucinda was already in the know. “I heard you’ve got big plans this weekend.”

James resisted the urge to sigh, “Not you too.”

Lucinda grinned like a Cheshire cat, “What? You expect me to feel sorry for you being so popular? Give me a break. You’re like a dog with a bone. You love the attention.”

That might have been true once upon a time, but these days James had been enjoying the quiet. His stuffed mailbox was giving him a constant headache.  
  
“The only attention I want is when I’m playing.”  
  
Lucinda rolled her eyes, “Whatever you say, Potter.”

 

Practice went over without a hitch and ended too soon. James wasn’t in a hurry to return to his too quiet house with the full postbox. He lingered while cleaning up the equipment. He was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Lucinda lingering too.

She looked like she wanted to say something and it was out of character for her to be hesitant about speaking her mind. “What is it?” he asked.

She smirked, “If you’re having trouble deciding between your worshippers, _we_ could always go together.”

The offer surprised him. Was Lucinda asking him out? It was true that they’d been sort of flirting for a while now, but it just seemed like something they had started doing to mess with each other since they couldn’t go back to being mortal enemies. James considered her a friend, but did he want her to be something else? He couldn’t deny they had a chemistry, it worked well in the air, but could it work off the Quidditch Pitch too?

“You asking me out, Talkalot?”

She smirked wider, “I’m just saying we could have fun together. It wouldn’t have to mean anything.”

The look she was giving him made him a little warm under the collar. He was getting a clear glimpse into what she was describing as _fun_. It wasn’t like he had never thought about it before. She was pretty and snarky and really good at Quidditch. If James had thought about what _he_ thought his type was, it would be like Lucinda all over… except… except he would _want_ it to ‘mean something’. No, he would _make_ it mean something.

Sirius was right, he wasn’t the type to take these things lightly. He knew that trusting Sirius’ instincts over his own had gotten him in trouble in the past, but the same could be said about the other way around. Either way, he didn’t want to complicate things before he figured any of this out.

“Sorry, I made up my mind to go it alone.”

Lucinda quirked an eyebrow. “Your loss pal.”  


* * *

 

Lucius hadn’t been to one of these parties in so long, he wasn’t even sure he could remember all the intricacies of them. Which order did he greet the people in? Where was he to stand throughout the night? Which songs were the popular ones to dance to? 

He checked himself in the mirror for the tenth time. He wasn’t wearing anything flashy. A simple baroque pattern, black and deep emerald. He was nervous. Actually nervous. And he still hadn’t heard anything about who Potter was bringing as his date. Lucius wanted to know exactly what he was competing with. Then again, would he actually have the gall to do anything about it? What exactly was he hoping for anyway?

But with Emma on his arm, he was feeling more confident. He could tell the stares were wondering whether they were together or not. The attention felt good, anyone would be lucky to have Emma interested in them and getting a glimpse of themselves in a mirror as they walked down the lighted entrance way into the hall, Lucius had to admit that they looked quite good together.

Lucius was lucky to have Emma with him, she was well-versed in party etiquette and brought him around to make all the proper introductions and greetings. He was glad that he could relax and not worry about those things. Emma seemed to enjoy it. In another life, he imagined that they would have made a good couple. But currently, Lucius’ mind was filled with only one question, _where was Potter_?

Lucius’ heart fell when he thought that maybe he hadn’t showed. He had been put on the guest list, but that was hardly definitive. Anything could have happened between then and now and maybe he wasn’t even here. But those thoughts were quickly put to rest as he caught a glimpse of Potter as Emma continued pulling Lucius through the crowds of people.  
  
Lucius stared, Potter was standing off to the left. He was wearing black on black dress robes with a bit of crimson piping. His hair looked neat for once, giving him a dignified air. He looked less boyish, more his age. He had one hand in his pocket and was holding a glass of champagne in the other. He smiled at whatever the people he was with were talking about. He didn’t look entirely comfortable. He looked like a man trying to plot his escape.

Lucius would let Emma pull him around for about forty minutes, which was the normal amount of time it took to get through all the formalities. She whispered conspiratorially, “If I can get one of these old farts to help me take down my father…” and Lucius understood why she had been so eager to go with _him_.

He was a bit of a big name when it came to family estates after all. His own father had never tried to cut him off, but Lucius had always had contingencies just in case. If all these people thought that Emma and Lucius were working together, they might reconsider backing Mister Vanity in robbing his daughter of her inheritance. Of course he really _was_ trying to help Emma, but her father was relentless, everything they tried, he seemed to find a way around it. But now that they were here, having fun and not thinking about the estate at all, people might start to wonder if they had even _more_ up their sleeves. And most of all, it would get back to Emma’s father that she may or may not be dating Lucius Malfoy and that would make him sweat.

Lucius kept tabs on Potter, who hadn’t noticed Lucius at all because he was constantly surrounded by people. Lucius kept trying to guess who his date was, but he didn’t seem to be particularly close to anyone around him.

When the forty minutes were up, he left Emma conversing with a few members of the Minister’s Office and headed to where Potter hadn’t seemed to move since he had last saw him.

Potter’s entire face seemed to light up when he caught sight of Lucius. It caused Lucius’ stomach to do somersaults. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?  
  
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Potter said, breaking away from the small crowd, who looked disappointed as he moved away from them. It made Lucius want to grin cruelly at them.

Lucius didn’t echo him because _of course_ he’d known Potter was on the list. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Potter gave him an incredulous look, “Oh yes, time of my life,” he said sarcastically, lowering his voice so the people watching them wouldn’t hear it.

Lucius had been able to tell that Potter was far from enjoying himself, but he didn’t think anyone else had noticed, “Not a fan of big parties?”

“Nah. All this posturing makes me dizzy. It always feels like everyone’s up to something.”

Lucius snickered, because that was true, “We _are_ Ministry Officials.”

Potter smirked, “Ah, so you are,” he took a sip from his glass, “So what are _your_ ulterior motives then?”

Lucius wasn’t quite ready to share _that_ information quite so early. “Tit for tat, Potter. Why are _you_ here?”

It might have been Lucius’ imagination but Potter seemed to flush a little, “Oh you know, breaking the tedium.”  
  
“Ah yes, breaking the tedium with the tedious. How’s that working out?”

Potter laughed, he seemed delighted that Lucius had seen through his flimsy excuse, “I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

Lucius raised his arm, “Well here it is. In all its glory,” surely Potter was already disappointed, “Don’t you regret sending in that RSVP card?”

Potter hadn’t taken his eyes off Lucius, “Not anymore.”

Lucius felt his face go hot. Was Potter flirting with him? “Surely your date would hate to hear that?” he couldn’t help saying because he was dying of curiosity.

Potter’s cheeks were flushed but that could have been from whatever he was drinking. He didn’t move his eyes away from Lucius’, “Actually, I thought it would be best if I came by myself,” his lips made Lucius feel like he was being drawn in and hypnotized, “Mind keeping me company?”

Lucius’ heart leap in his chest. This was too good to be true, wasn’t it? He hadn’t drifted off to sleep at his desk again? Potter was looking at him with an intensity that made Lucius’ throat want to close up. He was _definitely_ flirting, right? Lucius didn’t think he had it in him to be _that_ obvious. It was probably a Gryffindor thing.

Lucius cleared his throat, determined to not sound like the terrified, yet thrilled little boy he felt like, “I’m sure I could alleviate _some_ of your boredom.” He took a sip from his drink to wet his dry throat. “Though if they decide to play _this_ music all night, it may be beyond my powers.”

Potter laughed and the sound struck every chord in Lucius’ body. Of course that was when Maddie from Finance latched onto Potter’s arm. “Dance with me?” she asked coyly and Lucius felt his eyes turn cold and hard at the way she grinned like he’d already given her his answer. She shot Lucius a look that was all challenge. Lucius’ entire body was rigid.

Potter looked awkwardly between them and then said, “Sure,” to her because he was a nice person and didn’t tell her to fuck off like Lucius wanted him to. “You don’t mind, do you?” Potter turned to Lucius and Lucius couldn’t say, _yes, I do!_ So he shook his head.

Potter grinned at him, “I’ll be right back,” and those words had put Lucius immediately at ease again. Because they meant Maddie would get her dance, she’d get her new fantasy fodder for the year, her big story to tell to the office gossip mongers, but as soon as it was over, Potter would come back over here where Lucius was and Maddie could pine from the other side of the room for the rest of the night.

 

James let Maddie pull him into the dancing crowd. He noticed the people who were watching them, waiting to see if she was the one he’d spend the rest of the evening with. Unfortunately for her and anyone else in the crowd, James was pretty sure he’d already made up his mind.

His insistence that this thing was ‘just a crush’ had been immediately yanked from under his feet the second Malfoy had walked up to him tonight. Whatever this burning flame inside of him was, it was burning hotter and brighter than a mere crush ever could. The second James took him in, the dark robes, the knowing smile, the slight blush that had been so obvious on his pale face when James flirted with him. James knew that he wouldn’t be able to promise anyone else the kind of attention he wanted to devote to him. James would dance with anyone, to be polite, but he would be waiting impatiently for the song to end so he could return. If he could work up to it, maybe they could leave together, right now.

The dance with Maddie finally ended and James was determined to return to Malfoy. James barely heard Maddie’s soft voice say, “Again later?” and he gave her a noncommittal gesture before leaving her on the dance floor.

 

And that’s how it went most of the night. Potter would be too polite to turn someone down and he would reluctantly leave Lucius’ side. Potter would spend the dance looking over his partner’s shoulder before returning shortly after. It didn’t take long before people stopped asking him to dance. And with that, Lucius felt like he had won and was starting to feel braver and braver.

Potter went to refill their glasses, something he hadn’t done for a single other person tonight, and when he returned Lucius was determined to tell him the _real_ reason he’d come tonight. He hadn’t figured out the wording yet. He needed to be clear, but not pathetic or desperate. He wanted to come off cool and composed but not _cold_. Ugh, this was why Slytherins weren’t very good at dating. Overthinking was a curse. He knew for a fact that Potter would appreciate the plain, simple truth without any posturing. But Lucius didn’t think he could bear being that _raw_. How did Gryffindors do it? How did they go about their lives so authentically? It used to annoy Lucius how he could read them like a book, but right now he was grateful that he knew he wasn’t _imagining_ Potter’s interest in him.

When Potter returned, Lucius still hadn’t thought of what to say. He took his drink with a mumbled thanks and they talked about other things.

 

James could never seem to stop himself from going on rants about Transfiguration. Luckily Malfoy didn’t seem to be bored at all. When James finally wrapped up the unintentional lecture, Malfoy grinned at him.

“I’m amazed you never became a Professor, Potter.”

James grinned back, “And have to take McGonagall’s job? No way, that woman needs a six figure raise if you ask me. Dealing with those kids… and _us_.”

They shared a smile, an inside joke.  
  
James cleared his throat, “You can call me ‘James’. If you want.”

Malfoy’s eyes widened for a second but his voice was casual as he said, “Then I insist on being called by my first name as well.”  
  
James felt suddenly shy but he hid it by downing his drink in one go. 

 

It was a quarter past ten when a woman came and pulled on Lucius’ sleeve. “I didn’t bring you here so I could dance alone all night.”

James recognized her immediately. Devastatingly beautiful, Emma Vanity. The same woman he had seen saving lunch for Lucius that day he had gone to the cafeteria with Sirius. The same woman he had seen Lucius smile at when he never seemed to smile at anyone. James hadn’t thought about it before, but maybe Lucius was seeing someone. He hadn’t even thought to ask. And even though James was pretty sure he was being obvious with his interest, Lucius hadn’t outright returned any of it.

James tried to keep the flash of pain that burst in his chest from showing on his face. “Oh, you came with someone?” He tried to keep his voice casual, even just curious, maybe confused because Lucius hadn’t said anything about it, but even he could hear the disappointment in his tone.

They made a gorgeous couple. Lucius and Emma. His grip tightened. He was afraid that he might snap the stem on his wine glass but he didn’t loosen it.

Something flashed across Lucius’ face, something like realization, but then he was already being tugged away by the woman he had come with. He shot a look back at James, who was standing still on the side of the room, but soon disappeared from view as Lucius and Emma entered into the crowd on the dance floor.

 

James wanted to kick himself. This had always been a habit of his. He never thought that the person he was interested in might not be interested _in him_. Lily had often told him that his ego was too big to even bruise like a normal person’s, but James was pretty sure he could feel it right now.

He’d been so excited by these feelings he hadn’t felt in far too long, the excitement and thrill of something new. The anticipation, the pining. But it’d all been ripped away almost as quickly as it had begun. Why hadn’t he asked right out whether he was seeing someone or not? Why did he always let himself get carried away like this?

James made his way out one of the side doors to where he could breathe in the night air. The stars were bright and the air was cold. He was only alone for a few moments before Talkalot found him.

“Wow, that was almost painful to watch,” she said, “I could hear your heart break all the way from across the room.”

James gave her a look, did she really need to come out here and say that? It wasn’t like she was hurting for company, she was pretty and knew her way around the people inside. This was her domain, she could have anyone she liked.

She smirked, “So my offer’s still open,” she stretched like she was tired, or warming up for a game, “if you wanted to have some _fun_.”

James thought about walking away, but he was still feeling raw.

What was the harm in some mutual comfort? He didn’t feel like being alone right now. And it wouldn’t have to mean anything. She’d made it clear this was just for fun. Didn’t he deserve a little fun? But this sudden recklessness was at war with what he really wanted. He didn’t want some random one-night-stand. Yet he couldn’t delude himself into thinking there would ever be another Lily. He wanted to fall in love again but maybe the time for love had long since passed him. So why was he wasting his time passing up opportunities that presented themselves?

She stood there, waiting. She put her hand on her hip, her lips curled a bit in a way that was almost familiar. Her strawberry blonde hair looked almost platinum in the moonlight. “Let’s get out of here,” he said and she smiled.

He took her hand, leading her back inside so they could grab their things. James didn’t look at anyone, didn’t look around him, didn’t look for _him_. He wanted to leave and be in the company of someone who wanted him.

 

Lucius had finally extracted himself from Emma and was now scanning the crowd for James. He hadn’t imagined it, right? That look of devastation that had crossed James’ face when Emma had come to take Lucius away? The look had sparked something in Lucius, a longing and a hope. He needed to find him, tell him that Emma was a friend, a colleague. He shouldn’t have let her pull him away to begin with. He had thought he should probably dance with Emma though, since she _had_ been his technical date and he also thought that he could ask her about what he should _say._ But if that look James had given him meant what he thought it meant… if all this flirting meant what he thought it meant… then maybe he didn’t even need to say anything at all. Maybe he could just take his hand and-

But it was too late. He caught a glimpse of James as he headed for the door with Lucinda Talkalot in tow. They were pressed close together, whispering, laughing. Anyone could tell by looking at them what their next stop was going to be. A hotel or a bedroom.

Lucius’ breath caught in his throat. Had he been wrong about that look? The one that had caused that flame of hope to spring so violently to life? The flame was still flickering as he watched James disappear from the room with that woman in tow. It hadn’t gone out, but Lucius was sure there was a large bowl of ice water waiting to splash down and extinguish that flame for good if he let it.  
  
  
When they got to Lucinda’s place, James let her pull him into a fiery kiss. He even let her shove him onto her sofa and watched as she slipped out of her dress. He knew that all of this should be exciting and to a certain extent it _was_. But he kept thinking about the tentative friendship that they had developed while they had played on the Rec Team. Would this mess things up between them? Now that his head was a bit clearer and they had distanced themselves from the source of James’ heartache, he wasn’t sure he could go through with this.

Lucinda noticed immediately. “What is it?” she asked.

“I like you,” he started, “but-”

Lucinda groaned into her palm. James was impressed that she was standing there in her underwear and was still more confidant and in control than a lot of people James knew. It was admirable. He liked that she was ambitious and pushed for what she wanted. He did feel bad about letting it get this far, only to back down now.

“I don’t think I’m suited to one-night-stands,” he said. He honestly wasn’t. As much as he wanted to be the kind of person who could separate romance from sex, he didn’t think he could.

She watched him for a moment, trying to size him up, “Are you saying you’d rather _date_?”

Well, he hadn’t _thought_ he was saying that, but maybe he was. If Lucinda and him started dating, maybe something would grow out of this friendship they’d created and it would work.

“I don’t believe this,” she sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, “Don’t be sorry, it’s fine. Believe it or not, I don’t just like you for your body.”

James laughed, “Well that’s a relief.”

“I don’t know if I could _date_ you though,” she walked over to him and sat down on the other side of him. She looked over at him and he gave her a small smile. “But I guess we could try,” she said.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” he asked and actually did want an answer.

She shrugged, “I haven’t got any other prospects at the moment, how about you?”

James felt his heart twitch a little, “I guess not.” For a while he had really hoped he had though.

They sat in silence for a little while, neither one of them knowing quite what to say. “So how does this usually work?” Lucinda asked.

James laughed, “Have you never dated anyone before?”

She frowned, “Not like this I haven’t.”

He sighed, he didn’t think he had ever done something quite like this either, “How about we start with lunch. Thursday?”

She made a face that looked like she found that idea repellent, but then changed her mind, “Fine, Ministry cafeteria all right? I only get half an hour.”

A part of James didn’t want to go anywhere near the Ministry building, in case he saw Lucius. But then, the other part of him really, really wanted to see him. “Okay. 

It was a bit awkward as he rearranged his messed shirt and trousers and once he was put right again, he made for the door. He paused, “I’m sorry about tonight.”

She didn’t look annoyed though. She looked sympathetic, “Me too.”  
  
  
Lucius did what he always did when he found himself distracted by emotions, buried himself in work. He’d eaten lunch alone in his office for the past four days because he couldn’t stand all the new office gossip about Lucinda Talkalot and James Potter. 

The stack of parchment on Lucius’ desk never seemed to get any smaller. Even if, by some miracle, he managed to finish everything that was there, more of it appeared. He let it consume him.

There was a tap on his door and he grunted a ‘come in’ without looking up from where he was scrawling a nicely-worded ‘up yours’ to a concerned mother who thought it was the Ministry of Magical Education’s fault that her son didn’t get picked for Prefect this year. Lucius’ job would be so much easier if he was allowed to use Howlers.

“Hey, are you busy?”

Lucius jerked up in his seat, the familiar voice washing over him and warming him from the inside out. “No!” He dropped his quill and stared, “I’m… what are you doing here? Did Libby let you in?”

James seemed to be wondering what he was doing there as well. “You know her name’s Amanda, right?” he hesitated, and then let himself into the room. “I’m having lunch with Lucinda in a bit and I thought I’d come by and say hi.”

Lucinda. The name put Lucius into a sour mood. Of course James was here to see Talkalot, why else would he come to this place that sucked life and fun out of anything better than a Dementor ever could?  
  
If James noticed the sudden shift in Lucius’ mood, he didn’t show it, he casually took a seat in one of Lucius’ guest chairs. “I’m sorry I left without saying anything on Saturday.”

Ah, so that’s what this was. The guilty mind of the rude. Lucius was unsure what to say to that. From an etiquette standpoint, it _had_ been quite rude to leave without saying farewell to the people one had chatted with all evening. But on the more pressing side, the purely emotional side, Lucius was still pissed about the whole thing. He suddenly wished James would go away. He picked up his quill again and continued writing, “Well, you seemed in a hurry,” he said without looking at him, well aware that his tone betrayed him.

There was a hint of embarrassment in his voice when James agreed, “Yeah…”

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence that only lasted for a couple minutes because Lucius asked, “Are you dating her?” because he couldn’t stand not knowing any longer. Office gossip wasn’t exactly a paradigm of accurate information. Last year rumours had flown about Lucius’ non-existent lover in Vienna when he’d taken Draco on holiday.

“I guess so… yeah,” James said, at last dousing any flame of hope Lucius might have still had.

Lucius was holding his quill so tightly he might have broken it. Lucius knew that logically, _diplomatically_ , being friends with James Potter would work in his favour. They were both wizards of high standing and being around James felt like some kind of rebirth, like he was breathing colour and fun into Lucius’ otherwise dull and ordinary life. It was like metamorphosis, or -what was the Muggle word again?- holometabolism. But on the other hand, Lucius wasn’t sure how he was supposed to be friendly when all he could think about was what might have happened if he hadn’t let Emma pull him away that night. What if he had told her, ‘not now’ and instead asked James what that look was about. Why had he looked so gutted? Why had he flirted with Lucius all night just to leave him there, completely miserable? But instead, here he was, the man Lucius had pined over for months now, stopping by to say ‘hi’ because he was now dating Lucinda Fucking Talkalot.

“Emma is… quite the catch, huh?” James said.

Lucius wanted to bang his head against his desk, “Emma’s just a friend,” he said instead, trying to focus on the words appearing under his quill. He was _not_ going to look up. “She begged me to go with her because of some family drama.”

Lucius wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but he was still disappointed at the rather unremarkable “Oh,” that James voiced.

Lucius glanced at the clock and sighed, “You better go. It’s almost lunchtime.” And Talkalot would be waiting for him. And Lucius would go find Emma and demand eclairs for a month because this whole thing was her damn fault.

“Right,” James said, he ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair, “right.” James stood and headed for the door.

Lucius got up and moved to the door too. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing. He wanted to open the door for him? Or close it behind him? Or it was the habit of being polite that his parents had been so careful to drill into him. He was merely seeing his guest to the door. Or was it a knee-jerk reaction to James leaving and he wanted to stand near him, even if only for a second.

Just short of opening the door, James stopped and turned back to face him. He looked a bit flushed, his hair sticking up at the sides where he’d touched it. He was wearing a red tie over a white button down, far dressier than he normally dressed. Lucius’ chest tightened with the knowledge, _because it_ _’s a date_. But the tie was twisted a bit and before Lucius could think better of it, he reached out to straighten it.

Getting physical was an immediate mistake. Lucius realized how close they were, a mere breath away, and the feeling of James’ chest against his suddenly sensitive fingers sent fire all the way through him.  
  
Lucius knew he needed to step away but also couldn’t stand the thought. There was an agonizing moment of indecision where he stared, stuck, into James’ eyes, even though he was supposed to be focused on the piece of fabric he was holding in his hand. Lucius stepped closer, betraying every logical thought in his head that was telling him to stop, to go back to his desk and forget this ever happened. But then James’ eyes fluttered closed, his chin tilted upwards. A rush of lust burned through Lucius from the top of his head to his toes. James looked every bit like he was waiting for Lucius to kiss him. And all Lucius had to do was lean down a bit. Just a little and…

And Lucius wasn’t ready for what that kiss would entail. Potter had been dating Talkalot for a grand total of five days? As much as Lucius would love to rip him away from her, the same thing she’d done to _him_ , he wasn’t going to be satisfied being the side-affair. If Potter wanted Talkalot instead of him, that was a choice they were both going to have to live with. And if Potter wanted _him_ , he could break it off with Talkalot himself.  
  
He swallowed, pushing his emotions deep down inside and stepped away. “You’re going to be late,” he said and his voice came out in almost a whisper.  
  
James blinked, apparently surprised and Lucius didn’t miss the acute disappointment in his eyes.

 

James was a bit shaken as he left Lucius’ office. The misunderstanding with Vanity, the conclusions James had jumped to. He felt like an idiot. And he had really wanted Lucius to kiss him. His new relationship with Lucinda was a complete sham and there was no way he could continue it. He was going to have to start being honest with himself one way or the other and it was a good start to admit that agreeing to date Lucinda had been a cowardly move. He’d been desperate and needy and that was _always_ the start of bad decisions… of _really, really_ bad decisions.

James eventually made it to the cafeteria where Lucinda had been waiting for him. A wave of guilt overwhelmed him as he sat down. She didn’t look impressed at his timing. He was ten minutes late because he had needed that time to cool down in the washroom. He hadn’t wanted to show up to his date flushed and frustrated from someone else.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m late.”

Lucinda speared him with her eyes, James was suddenly self conscious wondering if she could tell what he’d been up to just before. But then she seemed immediately unbothered the next second. “It’s fine,” she said, munching on something green and leafy.

James wasn’t hungry and he felt awkward sitting there. “Listen-”

“I know,” she cut him off.

Again, he felt a wave of shame and embarrassment, but she _couldn_ _’t_ know, could she?

She sighed, apparently thinking him too thick to just let it be, “I already know this,” she waved between them, “ _thing_ isn’t going to happen. You’re head over heels.”

James nodded. She _did_ know. He should have made a stronger effort to be on time, that had been disrespectful.

Lucinda rolled her eyes, “The obvious aside, can we still have a nice lunch together? As friends?”

James immediately perked up, “Of course.” He felt grateful. It was the easiest break up he’d ever had.

“Good,” Lucinda said and rolled a sandwich at him. “Eat happily, I don’t need anyone looking over here and knowing I got dumped.”

“Lucinda, I-”

“It’s _fine_ , Potter. No need to be heroic. I knew what this was…” she hesitated, “I uh… I actually need to apologize.”

James blinked, “What for?”

She blushed. “For taking advantage of you.”

James blinked again. Oh yeah, that was right, wasn’t it?

She stared into her salad. “I felt like a total twit, I knew you were hurting and I swooped in like a vulture.”

“Lucinda, it’s okay, it’s-”

“That isn’t the worst part,” she said, lowering her voice because people were starting to look at them funny, “The thing is, I _knew_ …” she hesitated and then took another bite of her leafy lunch. James waited impatiently for her to finish.

She seemed to be thinking carefully about her words, “I knew that Malfoy and Emma weren’t together and were never going to be.”

James stared, “But-” but she had let him think that. She had known that that was why he was upset and she had let him think that. Then she had taken him home and they’d almost-

“I’m horrible,” she said and James was too shocked by the revelation to offer his opinion but he sort of agreed with her, “And I don’t know if it makes it more or less horrible when I tell you why.”

 

Lucius was not doing work. He hadn’t even invisible-d the memos like he sometime did to make it seem like he didn’t have a mound of work to do.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Lucinda and James and James and Lucinda. He couldn’t stop thinking about their _date_ and about how he could have had Potter right here, right now if he’d been able to suck down his pride enough.

If he’d been willing to help Potter cheat on his new girlfriend… and the strangest part was that Lucius typically had no conscience for something like that. Something like that had never bothered him before, he’d slept with more married men and women than not. It had been something else.

Despite his reluctance to admit defeat to that woman, Lucius knew that James would have hated himself. Lucius couldn’t stand the thought of James getting some guilty conscience for cheating on someone, even if Talkalot was clearly a mere convenience. Gryffindors were already obnoxiously martyr-minded. If he’d kissed James right then, James would have let that guilt consume him one way or another and Lucius didn’t need a role in that. He did not need to be James Potter’s dirty secret or his downfall or whatever else he might have called it in his guilt-ridden head.

Lucius’ office door banged open and Lucius jumped in his seat.

Emma look frazzled and angry. And she was a woman _not_ easily frazzled or angered.

“My father filed the last of the paperwork. I’m going to lose everything.”

Lucius’ heart rate returned to normal. He walked around to the front of his desk and put a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “What are you going to do?”

She looked distraught, the look didn't suit her at all, “There’s nothing I _can_ do,” she said, “In one month I’ll have nothing.”

Lucius knew that now was not the time to remind her that she was more than capable of surviving without her father’s money. Emma was strong and wilful, she could do anything, but she hated losing and she had been fighting this battle for the past two years.

“What can I do?” he asked.

She shook her head, “I don’t know. I…” she grew quiet for a moment as she looked at him.

Lucius was starting to get uncomfortable with how she was staring.

“No,” she shook her head, “That’s ridiculous.” She hadn’t even voiced what she was thinking.

“What?” he asked. 

“Nothing,” she shook her head, “I need to go. I need to find Talkalot.”

The name felt like needles piercing into him. He had forgotten that Emma and Talkalot knew each other.

“She’ll be in the cafeteria with Potter,” he said, his voice sounded every bit as bitter as he felt.

Emma spun to look at him. “What?” she demanded. Her eyes were suddenly lit up like fire.

At first Lucius thought she was just interested in the office gossip coming true, but there was something different there. Something he hadn’t seen on her before.

“I have to go,” she said and then was gone as quickly as she’d blown in.

 

James sat there in complete shock as Lucinda told him a story that was better than any episode of _Be Still My Aching Heart._ He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry or shake her. His facial features seemed to settle on an awkward grin.  
  
“This isn’t supposed to be funny,” she growled at him.

“I know, I’m sorry, it’s just amazing.” Lucinda, as long as James had known her, had always been completely hard-headed, completely focused and stone-faced. He didn’t think he had ever seen her lose her cool. But now she was a rolling ball of emotions and he couldn’t help the awe he felt.

“If you don’t wipe that look off your face right now, Potter, I swear I’ll-” Lucinda was cut off by Emma Vanity storming up to their table.

James remembered Emma from more than just the dramatics of last weekend. He remembered how she flew on her broom like a razorwind and he especially remembered her scary forehand. She had always managed to knock him down a peg or two, literally and figuratively. He remembered the actual chaos she caused when she handed her captaincy to a fifth year, Lucinda. Emma hadn’t lost an ounce of that terrifying aura she exuded and he instantly felt cold.

James got a distinct chill at the way Emma narrowed her eyes at him before completely disregarding him. “I need to speak to you,” Emma said to Lucinda, her voice was calm but with a tremor of thunderous anger inside it. It was the kind of tone that would have made anyone agree right away for their own personal safety. Lucinda, however, was not affected.

“Whatever you have to say to me, you can say right here.” Lucinda crossed her arms and made herself look comfortable in the rather low-quality, sharp-seated chair that not even cushion charms stuck to.

James swore he could hear the way Emma’s teeth ground together. “Talkalot, I don’t want to do this _here_.” She didn’t move her eyes from the other woman. James swallowed, people were starting to get curious about what was happening over here.

“You don’t want to do it _anywhere_ ,” Lucinda said, her voice coming out less strong but more determined, “You’d rather leave things hanging like you _always_ do and keep stringing me along.”

James couldn’t see Emma’s eyes but her voice spoke of the flames inside them, “ _I_ _’m_ stringing _you_ along? I didn’t go fuck some guy to prove a point!”  
  
Lucinda’s eyes were hot and angry. James had never seen her look like that before. She looked like she wanted to cry or put her fist through someone’s face. “You don’t get to say that to me when you hang all over anyone who gives you the slightest bit of attention!”  
  
Emma grabbed Lucinda’s arm. “Come with me,” she said and there was no room at all for negotiation. She pulled Lucinda out of her chair and they left the cafeteria in the midst of everyone’s complete wonder and surprise.  
  
  
Lucius tried to keep the leap of excitement he felt under control when James appeared in his door for the second time that day. And he already recognized that look on James’ face. It meant he couldn’t wait to tell him something 

James shut the office door and then turned back to him with that excited look on his face, “Did you know we were both unwitting pawns in a sly game of deceit and dominance between two hot as hell ex-Slytherin Quidditch Captains?”

There were so many words there Lucius didn’t understand, “Beg your pardon?”

James blurted out the whole story about how Lucinda and Emma had been doing this not-dating-but-clearly-in-love thing for two years already. Apparently Lucinda had proposed to Emma once upon a time five years ago but Emma had been career-focused and not willing to include anyone in her grand plans for the future. Then two years ago, Lucinda is suddenly a Sub-Head of the PR Department and Emma’s forced to go to her for everything from press releases to photo approvals. One thing leads to another and all the old feelings they thought had passed are back in full force, only this time they don’t want each other to know how badly they still want to be together. So instead they’ve been trying to break each other down to get someone to confess first. But Lucinda wants Emma to admit not marrying her was the biggest mistake of her life and Emma either feels guilty as hell or just doesn’t want to admit she was wrong.

Lucius’ head was spinning. He’d known Emma for years. How had he never known about any of this? He _did_ recall Emma mentioning Talkalot now and again. Emma had been four years ahead of Talkalot in school and made her captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team before she graduated, but that was the extent of what he had known about their relationship. Actually, now that he thought about it, Emma had more ‘PR meetings’ than anyone else in any other department… Lucius had always assumed it was because she was a total perfectionist.

Lucius felt like he was in a daze, “I can’t believe I didn’t know any of that.”

“Slytherins are good at hiding things,” James said and gave Lucius a look that Lucius couldn’t figure out.

“What’s that say about Gryffindors?”  
  
James shrugged, “We keep secrets, but we’re not very good at hiding our feelings.”  
  
Lucius crossed his arms, “Is that so?”

For a second James looked surprised, he probably hadn’t been expecting Lucius to call him out.

There was something sparking between them, a renewed version of what they had almost had at the Gala last week. It was back at square one, all the obstacles removed… well, mostly.

“I should go,” James said slowly, as if he wanted Lucius to give him a better suggestion.

Lucius didn’t. He thought James should go too. He thought James should _run_ before Lucius’ willpower, which was already hanging by a thread, snapped.

Once again he walked him to the door, resisting the urge to fix the rebellious tie again.

Lucius felt nervous with the way James kept glancing at him like he was trying to figure something out.

Lucius felt a tension coiling inside of him. It felt like a spring being pulled taut. He was worried about what he might do if James stayed here much longer.

Standing so close, he could smell the clean scent of whatever shampoo James used in his hair. He was trying not to outright _sniff_ him when James turned from the door to face him.

For a second Lucius thought he’d been caught, but then the tension inside of him exploded when James reached up and pulled his head down in a quick, hard motion, bashing their mouths together. James’ mouth was yielding and wet and Lucius wanted to immediately drown inside of him. Every single thing Lucius had been trying to hold back was crashing over him, a sudden flood tide.  
  
James had slipped his tongue into his mouth, holding Lucius’ head in both hands, like he was afraid Lucius would try and move away from him. But Lucius had no intention of doing that and moved his hands to grab hold of James’ hips, pushing him up against the door. James moaned into his mouth and he moved his grip to Lucius’ arms below his shoulders, pulling him closer. Lucius pulled at James’ hips, bringing their bodies together and could already feel James growing stiff against his thigh. James rocked his hips against him and Lucius felt like he was a teenager all over again, getting so hard just from the way James moved against him, just how he bit at his lips.  
  
When they parted for air, Lucius’ mind cleared enough to wonder, was this a good idea? But any reasonable thought in his head disappeared when James rolled his hips again, sparking a magnificent rush of pleasure that ran all the way to his toes and back.  
  
Lucius pulled him away from the door and walked him backward to the desk where he shoved him down on top of it. Scrolls and inkwells fell to the floor but Lucius couldn’t even spare a thought for them. His head was spinning, dizzy off of James’ breath alone.

James reached out and pulled Lucius in by his tie. He pushed his hands through Lucius’ hair. And Lucius was sure that he didn’t imagine how pleased James looked at the motion, like he had been waiting a long time to do that.  
  
Lucius gazed at him, a bit in disbelief. What on Earth James could see in him was beyond him, but he wasn’t going to question it right now, not after these weeks and weeks of pining. Not after these past few agonizing days when he had thought that this was far out of reach. James pulled him in for another long kiss and Lucius could feel himself growing addicted. What did he have to do to keep James like this?

He ran his hands down James’ arms, feeling the smooth curves of his muscles along the way. He wanted to touch them without the material of James’ shirt in the way, but they were in Lucius’ office where anyone could walk in at any time. It was probably best they kept most of their clothes on. But that didn’t stop Lucius from slipping his fingers up underneath James’ shirt. He marvelled at the smooth skin, the toned stomach, the firmness under his hands. It felt much better than he had imagined it would.  
  
“Fuck, I want you.” The breathless phrase slipped from James’ mouth and made Lucius delirious. 

Lucius made short work of the buttons on James’ trousers and tugged them down his thighs. He watched the way James’ face flushed, it caused a deep satisfaction to bloom through Lucius’ chest. He manoeuvred himself down James’ body and grinned as James choked back a gasp when Lucius pressed his lips to suck at James’ hip. He dragged his lips over the sensitive skin of James’ thigh and then to where Lucius wanted to put his mouth most of all.

Lucius toyed with the thought of making James come completely undone, make him desperate and make him beg, but there wasn’t time for that. Instead, Lucius savoured the delicious moan that made its way out of James’ throat when Lucius took him into his mouth.  


James gripped the edge of the desk, his knuckles white. Lucius’ mouth was hotter than he ever imagined. He moved his hands to Lucius’ hair, it too was much better than he’d imagined, much softer. James was suddenly very, _very_ aware that he hadn’t done this in a long time. And it was starting to look like this could be a little short-lived.  
  
  
Lucius basked in the noises, the whimpers and groans that James made. He kept his hands on James’ hips, a tight grip, holding him there. James ran his hands through Lucius’ hair again and again.  
  
Too soon, James pushed at his shoulder, “Wait, wait, stop." 

Lucius did and looked up at him, waiting.

James was breathless and glowing, “I want…”

And Lucius already knew what he wanted, but he hadn’t thought they would get there today. Lucius rose to his feet and kissed him again, stealing every bit of breath until they were both gasping. Lucius let his outer robes fall to the floor and James tugged at Lucius’ belt, undoing the clasp and trouser buttons. Lucius was surprised that James seemed completely at home here, his body trapped between Lucius and the hard desk.

“Wait,” Lucius realized that he wasn’t exactly prepared for situations like this, “I don’t have-”

James seemed to know what he was going to say. He ‘hmmed’ and picked up Lucius’ wand, which had remained on the desk in its holder. He looked around them for a short second before palming one of the inkwells that hadn’t been knocked off the desk in their carelessness before. He shook it a little and watched the way the ink moved in its container. Then he tapped it with Lucius’ wand and the consistency of it changed immediately.

Lucius stared, transfixed, his mouth might as well have been hanging open. He remembered the way James’ face looked when he talked about Transfiguration and… what was it? Oh, _holometabolism_. Lucius also recalled reading in _Quidditch Weekly_ how Transfiguration had been James’ speciality at Hogwarts. “Did you just metamorphose my ink?”

“No,” James smirked at him, “It’s not true metamorphosis since they’re both water-based, it’s just a matter of getting the chemical compounds-”

Lucius cut him off with a kiss, impatient and also annoyed that James talking nonchalantly about Transfiguration made him impossibly harder. Made him want this man impossibly more. It should be criminal. Lucius didn’t quite know what this meant, he’d always found Transfiguration so tedious before, but he had the distinct feeling that he could listen to James talk about it forever. Except right now, because right now there was something else he really wanted to do.

Lucius could feel James smirk against his lips. James had a hand at the back of Lucius’ neck and when they parted slightly, he pulled them back together again. James kissed like he was hungry, like he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had devoured Lucius completely. Lucius was sure that he would _let_ him.

Lucius let James keep doing that. Pulling Lucius in and in and in. Then Lucius finally pulled out of the kiss long enough to wonder, how were they doing this? James smirked up at him, the curl of his lips making Lucius ache with want. He pressed the inkwell into Lucius’ hand. “This time, I want you to fuck me on your desk.”

It was the single hottest thing Lucius had ever heard. But it wasn’t the fucking part or even the desk part, it was the _‘this time’_. Because that meant there would be more times, right?

Lucius spilled the contents of the inkwell into his hand. He pressed his mouth to James’ throat at the same time he pressed his fingers inside him. He could feel the vibrations of James’ low moans against his lips.

He went slowly, especially taking his time whenever he did something that made James shudder with pleasure, made him throw his head back and moan. Lucius wanted to go even slower, he wanted to make James desperate for him. But there wasn’t time and if James had meant what he’d said earlier, there would be other times to test their respective limits.

When it seemed safe to continue, Lucius pulled his fingers away, causing a small noise of protest from James who looked every bit as hot as Lucius imagined he would in the early mornings when he had fantasized about this. James’ hair was much messier than normal, framing his flushed face and swollen lips. Lucius wanted to keep him like this forever.

Lucius poured more from the inkwell into his hands and slicked himself first before reaching for James’ cock. James fell forward against him and Lucius mouthed his ear, “Hard or soft?”

“Ugnh, _hard_.”

“Turn this way,” Lucius said and manoeuvred James so he could get a grip on the desk. He kissed the back of James’ neck as he lined up their bodies. James smelled like spices and grass, it was a bit sweet and it made Lucius _crave_.  
  
James let his head fall forward over the top of the desk and Lucius admired the curve of his back. He ran his fingers down James’ sides, everywhere he could touch with his shirt still in the way. He marvelled at how James arched into his touch and Lucius was already thinking about the _next_ time and the _next_ time and how many more times could they do this? It would never be enough, Lucius was sure.

 

They were dressed and cleaned up and facing each other at the door again. Lucius reached to straighten James’ tie, which seemed to have a mind of its own. And this time, the action was fraught with new meaning. He dragged his fingers across James’ neck as he did it.

The look James gave him was piercing and deep.

Lucius didn’t want to, but he had to get back to work. He resisted the urge to lean down and kiss him again. It seemed too sappy and they hadn’t said at all what this was going to mean yet.

“I’ll… uh… let you get back to work,” James said and Lucius finally convinced himself to let go of the tie.

Lucius watched him disappear behind the door, the quiet click of the handle signalling him to return to his parchments, his memos. But he took another few moments, watching the door, waiting for his heartbeat to return to normal and for the warmth that had flooded his entire being to cool enough to let him concentrate on anything even close to work.

 

James felt like he was in a daze. His body ached but in a good way. He needed to get home and fall into his bed.

He slowly made his way to the elevators, trying not to let the grin on his face tip off any of the nosey workers who were side-eyeing him as he walked by.

He got on the elevator, squishing in with everyone else headed to the main floor. He kept trying to focus on the task of getting home, of getting to the Apparation station, of going to bed. He had to focus on _something_ because he didn’t want to think of Sirius and how he had been right about everything.

It was staring him in the face now. It came paired with an embarrassing reality check. Most grown men didn’t fall this fast or this hard, but it was already too late. He was a complete and utter goner.  


* * *

 

“So,” Lucius decided not to drag it out, “You’ve been keeping some pretty big secrets from me, Vanity.” 

Emma glared, “Oh, your new boyfriend’s a gossip, terrific.”  
  
“It’s all over the office after that little altercation in the cafeteria.”

Lucius couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or annoyed, she was too good at her job.  
  
Lucius belatedly processed what she’d said, “Wait, _boyfriend_? How d-”

Emma glared at him, _now_ he could tell she was annoyed, “Ugh, you’re so easy to read, Malfoy. Thank Merlin you aren’t in PR.”

Lucius couldn’t figure out how he felt about this. Should he be angry that Emma could read him like a book or that she hadn’t _said_ anything about it? Or that she had tried to _use_ him in her mindgames? “You said you thought Talkalot and Potter were together,” Lucius said.

“No, I said they were probably shagging and what I wanted was for you to spring into action. I wanted you to do something _before_ they actually shagged. But _that_ didn’t happen.”

“That was _your_ fault,” Lucius glared, “If you hadn’t-”

“We can point the blame all day,” she cut him off, the perfect picture of a PR employee cutting off an assault of battering questions, “the point is, we’ve both done things we’ve regretted. I apologize for what came to pass.”

“Don’t use your PR bullshit on me, you _used_ me.”

“ _And_  we both got what we wanted…” she shrugged, “sort of.”

They eyed each other for a long moment. “Fine,” Lucius forgave her, because it _had_ worked out in the end. But he was still annoyed that she hadn’t been forthcoming about her ulterior motives. He also had no idea how she’d known something had happened between him and James since he hadn’t once mentioned anything to her. Not the tavern, not the graveyard, nothing. But most of all, he thought Emma and him were _friends_. “If you had _told_ me what you were doing, I would have helped you.”

For the first time, Emma looked actually sorry, “I know.”

“So what _is_ the status between you and Talkalot now?”

Emma sighed, “Unclear.”

“What do you want it to be?”

Emma was quiet for a while, “I don’t know,” she finally said, “I was fine with how things were. I thought we were on the same page, we didn’t need all these goddamned feelings involved,” her tone was getting passionate and she stopped for a moment to collect herself, “And then she left that night with Potter and I felt like I was in a nightmare. I was so angry and… hurt. I thought they might be good together and I was surprised how much I hated myself right then. None of this was worth it. I thought I was bypassing all the emotions but…” Lucius didn’t interrupt her, he sat quietly and waited as she drew on her courage to speak the words she had been denying herself, “ I think I love her.”  
  
“You should tell her that.”

Emma squeezed her eyes shut, she looked much smaller than Lucius was used to, “She’ll think I’m an idiot.”

“Yes,” Lucius walked over and put a hand on her shoulder, “you are _._ _”_

He felt proud at the small smile in her voice, “Asshole.”

Emma was staring at the ground, Lucius squeezed her shoulder, “But she knows that already. And if she knows you like I know you, she’ll know how much effort this is for you.”

Emma was quiet for a long time. Emma was the kind of person who believed in never admitting you were wrong. In never showing an ounce of weakness. Mistakes and weakness were things that would get someone in her job fired. She was good at her job, easily the best in the business, but it had obviously worked against her in her personal life.

“You said you were going to have nothing by next month,” Lucius pointed out, “That doesn’t have to be true.”

Emma grew very still for a moment, Lucius was almost sure he had offended her somehow. Instead, when she looked up at him, there was a fire burning anew in her eyes. “You’re absolutely right.”

 

Lucinda didn’t even know why she was lingering at work. A part of her was hoping that she would see Emma, but it was going to be a while before they’d be able to look each other in the eye again.

Lucinda wasn’t even sure what she wanted anymore. She wanted a relationship with Emma like the one they had had before… before Lucinda had messed it all up with proposing. She had _known_ Emma hated things like that, romantic gestures and promises… they had been happy, why hadn’t Lucinda been satisfied with that?

Lucinda fixed her blouse in the mirror. It was important in their line of work to appear completely put together at all times. Not even a hair out of place. Most especially when you didn’t _feel_ that way.

Lucinda was good but she would never be as good as Emma. Emma had it down perfectly. Lucinda felt proud of herself most of the time for being able to climb over Emma’s high, warded walls. Emma never let anyone get close to her, never let anyone know the bad sides of her… but Lucinda knew them all. That in itself had been special, so why had she pushed her so much? Demanded things she knew Emma couldn’t give her? She called Emma a coward but wasn’t Lucinda an even bigger one? She had been trying to manipulate Emma into revealing her feelings, she had used so many people trying to prompt Emma into a confrontation and she’d finally succeeded. And what had it accomplished?

The sad, unflattering truth was that Lucinda hadn’t wanted to marry Emma because she _loved_ her. She’d wanted to lock her down because deep inside Lucinda was an absolute coward and thinking Emma might leave one day scared her.

She wasn’t scared anymore. Emma had left anyway and Lucinda had survived somehow even when she thought she wouldn’t. She would survive again if it came down to that.

Lucinda packed her briefcase and sent out the last two memos she needed to finish. She was about to _Nox_ the lights when there was a soft tap on the door, “Come in,” she said and hoped it wasn’t a last moment confab. She wasn’t in the mood to hear Drake drone on and on today.

It was Emma and Lucinda felt like she couldn’t breathe.  
  
“Can I come in?” Emma asked softly and Lucinda just nodded mutely.

Emma looked uncertain, so Lucinda sat down to make her more comfortable.

“I’m sorry,” Emma said.

In all the time Lucinda had known her, Emma had never apologized for anything even when she really should have. “I’m the one who needs to apologize.”  
  
Emma shook her head, “You don’t have to. I knew what you were going to do and I let it happen anyway.”

“You can’t stop something you’ve already S _een_ ,” Lucinda reminded her.  
  
“It doesn’t mean I never try.”  
  
“That sounds like madness. Trying to stall the inevitable.”  
  
“Prophecies aren’t _inevitable._ ”  
  
“You know what I mean.”  
  
The sat in silence for a while before Lucinda broke it again, “Was that you admitting to prophesying about me?”  
  
Emma rolled her eyes, “Are we still pretending that we don’t do that? And I can’t help it. The visions come whenever they want.”  
  
“About me, specifically?”  
  
Emma crossed her arms, “Why don’t you ask your cards?”  
  
Lucinda just smirked.  
  
Another beat of silence and this time it was Emma who broke the silence,  “I _See_ lots of things, but I somehow missed how unhappy you were with me.”

“Well my cards didn’t predict you leaving me either.”

“Were you really that miserable?”

“Desperately. But it wasn’t because of you,” Lucinda sighed, “I had a lot of things I needed to figure out.”  
  
“So did I,” Emma said, “I wanted to be good at my job.”  
  
“You are.”  
  
“I am _now,_ _”_ Emma sighed, “So I can’t say I regret leaving because I don’t. I focused on my career and I’ve been able to do everything I wanted to.”

Lucinda nodded, she expected as much.

“But,” Emma continued, “I _did_ miss you. I’d pray for visions of you so I could keep tabs. But you always did surprise me. I didn’t _See_ it coming when you started working here.”

Lucinda smiled, “That’s lucky. What would you have done to try and stop me?”

Emma looked completely serious, “I would have destroyed your reputation before you even set foot in the door.”  
  
Lucinda wasn’t insulted. “So do you think it’s fate that brought us here then? Something powerful enough to blind your visions and confuse my Divining?”  
  
Emma looked lost for a moment before saying, “I don’t know.”

This was ridiculous. _They_ were ridiculous. She could never hate Emma for choosing what was in her heart.

“Things are different now, _we_ _’re_ different,” Lucinda said, “I mean, psychic-spying aside, we’ve both changed a lot.”

But there were some things that remained the same. Neither one of them thought twice about hurting the other if it meant getting the upperhand. They’d been trying to force each other back in love but things could never be like they used to be.

“You’re right,” Emma said, “And the things that haven’t... don’t bother me.” Emma fixed Lucinda with the look she used when she didn’t want anymore stupid questions. “I think this could work.”

Lucinda blinked and then blinked again. Had she heard that right? “What?”

Emma looked suddenly flushed and nervous. “I’m saying we could both have what we want.”

Lucinda’s mind was running a mile a minute and she could already tell what Emma was about to say even _without_ her cards, “Emma wait-”

“Let’s get married.”

Lucinda’s heart was thumping so hard she was sure Emma could hear it. This had been what she had always dreamed of. Of hearing Emma say those words… and yet… “You don’t want to marry me.”

“Yes I do.”

“No, you don’t. You think that’ll make me happy. But it won’t. And I don’t need that anymore. I should have known better in the first place. I want to be with you, but there’s no reason to put you in this position again.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, I-”

“I wanted to hear you say those words for so long and now that I hear it, it sounds so wrong. As much as we’ve changed, I don’t want you to change _because_ of me,”

“Lucinda-”

“And if I ever made you feel that way, I’m sorry-”

“ _Lucinda_ ,” Emma’s voice was hard as stone.

Lucinda stalled, falling into silence.

Emma was looking at her hard, “You know my father’s been rewriting the family laws to cut off my inheritance for years. He just filed the last of the paperwork. But I could undermine the whole thing with a law he _couldn_ _’t_ change. I could bypass this whole thing if I had an heir of my own to pass it onto. I obviously don’t, however, I could just as easily pass it on to my husband… or my wife.”

Lucinda stared at her.

“Wait,” Lucinda said slowly, “You want to use marrying me as a way to take family property from your father?”

Emma crossed her arms, “Yes,” she said definitively.

For a moment Lucinda’s mouth wavered between a frown and something else. Then she burst into helpless, hysterical laughter. “You _haven_ _’t_ changed.”

Emma didn’t look at all put out by Lucinda’s outburst. “That a problem?”

Lucinda was so happy she felt light-headed. “No,” she was grinning, “not at all.”

 

James was _finally_ done his work for Vance and the committee. He’d read it a thousand times and both Sirius and Remus had gushed over it. The arguments were solid, it was _good_.

To celebrate they went to their favourite Muggle pizza place instead of Hogsmeade that Friday.

While they ate, James updated them on the newest developments of his love life.

“Don’t make the face,” James said as he stared down at his half-eaten pizza.

“You’re not even looking at my face,” Sirius pointed out.

“That doesn’t mean you’re not making it.”

When Sirius knew he’d been right about something, he was completely unbearable.

James finally looked up. Sirius _was_ making the face.

“What are you going to do now?” Remus asked. He was a lot more subtler with his facial expressions.

“I don’t know,” James admitted and took a sip of his soda even though it was just ice now. He wasn’t hungry but he couldn’t seem to get enough liquids. He tended to drink a lot when he was nervous.

“What do you _want_ to do?” Remus asked.

James tried to stop fidgeting. He put his hands on the table.

“I want to see what happens,” James finally said, “I want to see if this is… _real_ or not.”

He didn’t miss the concerned look his two best friends shared. He moved his eyes back down to the table, he hated when they did that. He didn’t want to look at them while they tried not to say what he knew they wanted to say. He knew what they were thinking and they must know that he _knew_ what they were thinking.

“It won’t be like last time,” James vowed.

There was an uncomfortable feeling that was threatening to spread across the table, but Sirius broke it with a barking laugh, “Of course it won’t! So what are you worrying about?”

James’ head shot up, “ _You_ _’re_ the ones who’re-” but they were grinning at him.

James felt his face flush, maybe he’d imagined that look they shared before.

Remus reached out and tapped James’ hand. “Whatever you decide to do, Prongs, you know that we’ll support you.”

Yes, he knew they would. But that was part of the problem. They always supported him. Even when he was making a mistake.

 

Lucius couldn’t believe it. He stared at Emma like he’d never seen her before. “You’re a genius.”

Emma smirked, “You might have helped a little.”

Lucius shook his head in disbelief, “I wish I could see the look on your father’s face when he gets that marriage certificate.”

Emma laughed, “You and me both.”

Emma looked happier than Lucius had ever seen her.

Then all at once her expression sobered, “There’s something I need to tell you,” she said.

Lucius sat up straighter, sensing the shift in the mood. “What?”

She took a steady breath, like she was getting ready to step behind a podium. “The reason I knew it had to be _you_ to take me to the Gala was because I _Saw_ it.”

Lucius frowned, “Saw it?”

Emma looked around them for a second, almost like she was expecting someone else to be there. “No, _Saw_ it.” Then she lowered her voice, so much that Lucius had to lean in closer to hear her. “I’ve been keeping this from everyone because it’s part of the reason I’m so good at what I do.”

Lucius was staring and growing more impatient by the second, “ _What_?”

“I’m a clairvoyant.”

Lucius stared at her. Stuck.

Everything suddenly made sense. Why Emma often knew things she couldn’t know. He had never thought about it before, but he’d never _told_ her about his secret desire for Muggle sweets, she’d just showed up in his office one day with a bag of them, asking for a favour. She had always seemed to know the questions reporters were going to ask before they asked them. She was unrivalled at prepping her team to answer questions and her timing was always impeccable. It all fit together now. Emma was a psychic.

He didn’t realize his jaw had dropped until Emma reached out and moved his mouth up with her finger. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“Couldn’t you _tell_ if I was going to tell anyone?”

She looked annoyed, “It doesn’t work that way.”

He stared at her. She glared at him.

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” he said.

She seemed to relax a bit. “I know you won't.”

She got up and was heading for the door, “And not because I _Saw_ it, because you’re a good friend.”

Lucius smiled.

Emma hesitated at the door. For a second she looked like she wanted to tell him something.

“What is it?” he asked, nervous.

She gave him a look. One Lucius couldn’t figure out. Was it pity? Was it fear?

Then just as quickly, her face was a mask of indifference once again. “It’s nothing,” she said and offered him one of her shining smiles.

She left but Lucius stared after her, a sudden dread rooting inside of him. He knew that smile. He had seen it dozens of times in the _Prophet_ during one of her press conferences. It was the one she used when she was trying to hide something _really_ bad.

 

Sometimes Lucinda joined James at Little League as an assistant coach. She said it was because she couldn’t stand the thought of him corrupting young people, but he knew that she just secretly loved kids.

Today James could already guess that things were going well by the way Lucinda’s confidence seemed blinding. He had only ever seen her that way once before when they’d smashed their Rec Team rivals that had bested them all season.

Lucinda filled him in when they broke for lunch.

James was starry-eyed, “You guys are better than Muggle soaps.”

Lucinda frowned, “Are you saying I’m dirty?”

“Never mind,” James shook his head, “It’s a good thing we _didn_ _’t_ sleep together then.”

Lucinda smirked, “Oh? People have sex for lots of reasons, Potter. Not everyone’s a romantic like you.”

James frowned, “Then what _reasons_ did you have?”

Lucinda looked annoyed, “ _Lots_ of reasons,” she took a spoonful of ice cream and took her time licking it off, “Sex is a bargaining chip.”

“A bargaining chip?”

“Yeah. With me and Emma it’s all about bargaining chips.”

“And you were trying to cash them in with _me_?”

Lucinda rolled her eyes, “No, I was trying to take them _away_ from _her_. It didn’t actually matter whether we slept together or not, as long as she _thought_ we did. I got what I wanted.”

“And what was that?”

Lucinda fixed him with a smile, “Her not dictating who I can and cannot sleep with without admitting what that means.”

James didn’t understand why they couldn’t be honest with each other. “Is this some kind of Slytherin thing?” he asked suspiciously.

Lucinda scoffed, “Don’t make this about Houses. I’ve dated more Gryffindors than you have and some of them were worse about negotiating their feelings than Emma ever was.”

James shrugged. “How did you know what she was going to do at the Gala anyway?”

For a second Lucinda looked embarrassed, “I may have spied on her a little.”

“You were _spying_?”

She flushed, “Not the way you’re thinking. It was cartomancy.”

He rolled his eyes. “Tarot cards? Next you’re going to read my palm.”

Lucinda raised her eyebrows, “Do you want me to?”

James blinked at her, surprised, “You’re being serious? You do Divination?”

“It was my speciality,” she shrugged one shoulder, “I was especially good at _Love_.”

James smirked, “Then why aren’t you any good at navigating your own relationship?”

Lucinda snorted, “Spoken like a true non-believer. We can’t Divine our _own_ futures. It’s literally the first rule of Divination.”

James gave her a bored look, “I skipped that class.”

They were sitting on the grass and Lucinda got onto her knees and held out a hand, “All right tough guy, you want me to tell you your deepest, darkest secret?” She grabbed his hand and turned it palm up.

“Sure, I could use a laugh.”

Lucinda’s eyes seemed to shift a little in the light as she studied his hand, “You’re always the first to say ‘I love you’.”

Now it was James’ turn to snort, “ _That_ _’s_ insightful. Not at all like you might have figured that out when you were trying to jump me. I knew it. You’re hacks, all of you.”

“I’m not done yet,” Lucinda said in an eerie voice that made James feel like he was sitting in a cold draft, “The rats are first to desert a sinking ship.” Her words stopped James from breathing and for a very long moment Lucinda studied his hand like she really was reading the secrets of his life on it, then she sighed, “Basically you’re _clingy_.” She dropped his hand.

James pulled his hand back. He stared at her for a beat and tried to conceal how she had just made him shiver, “Pretty generic advice.”

Lucinda sniffed, “Whatever, I tried.”

James turned back to his lunch, ignoring the slight tremor in his hands.. He wanted to change the conversation back to _her_ and her problems, not his. “I don’t understand the weird mindgames you guys play.”

“You don’t have to, it has nothing to do with you,” she stuck her nose up at him, “Not everything has to fall into a neat little box.”

At first he wanted to argue about how that wasn’t what he wanted, but deep down maybe he did. “What’s so wrong with wanting to fall in love like a normal person?”

“Nothing,” she shrugged one shoulder, “As long as he wants the same thing you do.”

And maybe she _had_ read some of his secrets on his palm, because that was exactly what he was afraid of.

 

James had been pacing on the first floor of the Ministry of Magic building for ten minutes already. It wasn’t that he was lacking the courage to go up to Lucius’ office, it was more like he just wasn’t 100% sure he _wanted_ to. He didn’t need to confirm what the relationship between them was _that_ badly. He could play it cool for a few more days, couldn’t he? There was no reason to interrupt Lucius’ work, even if the _last_ time had been pretty worth it…

He was going to have to make a decision soon because people were starting to ask him if he needed help getting to where he was going.

He was finally about to step onto the elevator when a voice behind him said, “I’m really hoping those ten minutes of pacing were on my account.”

James felt himself flush with the embarrassment of being caught and not at all because of the smooth, velvety voice and its owner. “You were _watching_ me? Why didn’t you come over here?”

Lucius’ lips looked beyond tempting curling up into a cruel smile, “This was more fun.”

“Sadistic bastard,” James muttered, but his entire being was filled with the pleasant buzz of being this close to the other man.

Lucius must have been on a break because his Ministry robes were no where in sight. Instead he wore a vertical striped black and white shirt with a high collar underneath a dark vest. His trousers were deep green, almost black but revealed their true colour in direct lighting. James often thought that Lucius belonged in the fashion column of _Witch Weekly_ instead of being out here in the open with all the regular people.

People were pretending not to eye them as they stood together in the wide corridor with people rushing to and from places all around them.

Lucius put his hand on James’ arm, stepping in close. “Come upstairs,” he said.

James felt his cheeks light up from the sensuous way he’d said it. “I can’t,” he replied truthfully. He needed to get to a meeting. He shouldn’t have come down to the Ministry of Magic at all. But he couldn’t wait another day to ask. He took a breath, “Do you-”

“Yes.”

James laughed, “I didn’t say anything yet.”

“I don’t care,” Lucius took James’ hand, holding it like he was going to kiss it. “Yes.”

James was pretty sure he had all the answers he needed. “Okay,” he said unable to contain his widening grin by the second. “Saturday. Is Saturday good?”

Lucius nodded. Cool, calm, and collected. Meanwhile, James felt like he’d just downed a Euphoria Elixir and was going to float away any second.

“Right, so, I’ll see you… Saturday. Uh, when? Where?”

“I’ll owl you,” Lucius said. He looked amused at James’ sudden inability to string together a coherent sentence.

“Okay.” James willed his heartbeat to return to normal.

They stood there together a few seconds more. James was sure he recognized some of the faces in the wavering crowd around them. People he’d maybe talked to at the Gala? James felt an inexplicable rush of possessiveness at the memory of the Gala. He reached up to pull Lucius’ head down and kissed him right there in the middle of the hall.

It was a quick kiss, but it appeared to have the desired effect. Lucius looked stunned, his storm-coloured eyes locked into James as he pulled away.

“Saturday,” James said and then let go of the other man. He headed to the doors. He looked back once. Lucius was still standing where he’d left him and everyone around him seemed to be transfixed in the spot too. They were staring like they had never seen a kiss before.

James wanted to laugh. Ah, Ministry Workers, they were way too easy to excite.

 

The day had dragged on relentlessly.  Lucius had spent most of it staring at a crystal paper weight that had a crack all the way down it from hitting the floor when Lucius had thrown James onto his desk.  
  
He could recall every second in vivid detail, the way James had sounded, the way he’d smelled, the way his body had moved under his, the way he’d _tasted_. He wasn’t going to fix the paper weight, he was going to keep it as it was forever.

And that kiss in the hallway earlier had spread around the offices like Fiendfyre. There wasn’t a single person in the building now who didn’t know. Lucius basked in the glares from the jealous gossipers but especially from Financial Department Maddie. He’d grinned maliciously at her as he passed and she’d hissed at him.

“God, you’re insufferable,” Emma said, coming in and closing the door behind her.

"I’m not going to feel bad for being happy."

“Be happy,” she said, “but stop _gloating_.”

Lucius frowned at her, “That coming from you is the _definition_ of hypocritical.”

“Noted,” she said and set an unmarked file on his desk, “But I’ve never had ambitions quite like _yours_.”

Lucius wasn’t sure what she was getting at so he flicked open the file she’d set down.

It was his name in big letters at the top. Recommendation for Advancement.

Lucius stared at it, disbelieving. An official recommendation wasn’t just a piece of paper, it was the only thing Lucius needed to one day run for Minister of Magical Education, his dream job.

She let the information sink in a little before immediately sending him careening back to reality, “I recommended you myself. And I don’t need the various departments questioning my judgement because you’re acting like a goddamned prat.”

Lucius swallowed. Everything had a new flavour now. There was a new weight to everything he did. He was ecstatic and beyond grateful for Emma putting her name and reputation on the line for him, but this changed everything.

She must have seen the look in his eyes because she said quietly, “Got it?”

He nodded numbly.

Emma let herself out. Lucius continued to stare at the paper in front of him. The one that had the power to potentially change his entire life.

 

He finally got up to move at 4:30 when the mid-week meeting started. Lucius usually spent the entirety of those meetings trying not to sleep with his eyes open. He considered them akin to an endurance match and the first one to yawn, nod off, or even doze was out. It made the dull proceedings rather entertaining.

But Lucius didn’t need to start placing his bets against himself because the main subject on that afternoon’s agenda jolted him awake faster than any Pep-Up Potion ever could. There in bold letters, top of the page, the Wizards&Witches for Muggle Education Committee was going over their heads for a ruling to make Muggle Studies mandatory.

The Pureblood traditionalists and extremists were going to go ballistic. Lucius himself wasn’t sure what he thought yet. He didn’t like the thought of being _made_ to take any class, especially not something he could not imagine having to use in everyday life. But the most troubling part of all, was the Committee Co-Heads’ names printed across the paper. Emmeline Vance and James Potter.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do now. His co-workers were looking at him like they expected him to say something about it. Everyone knew now that him and Potter were… what? Lovers? Dating? Then he realized they were staring because he had always been a spokesman for the Pureblood Society in the past. And only a few years ago he would have had plenty to say. These days he wasn’t even sure where he stood on the matter. Somewhere between Narcissa’s influence and James’, Lucius seemed to have lost his will to stand on his Pureblood Soapbox. But more than that, he had an obligation now to remain impartial. If Emma’s recommendation went through, he could well be on his way to a higher position and he needed to show his superiors that he was capable of neutrality.

“What?” he snapped at his co-workers who were still eyeing him warily. They all pretended to go back to reading their own papers.

After the tense meeting where everyone managed to stay on topic for once and no one tipped their hand to show what they thought of the Muggle Education Committee, Lucius wasn’t surprised to find an owl waiting for him in his office. He knew who it was from, his ex _-_ sister-in-law.

Bella had always come to him for help whenever she was planning to lodge complaints about Hogwarts or the myriad of other things she took issue with. He usually helped her because of the feelings of duty he still felt to Narcissa, who had always made time for her sister even when they disagreed about things. But now Lucius had an uneasy foreboding.  
  
As expected, Bella wanted him to lead the charge against the Muggle Education Committee. Bella herself wasn’t much good in debates, she tended to ramble and say inflammatory things. How was he supposed to tell her that he would like to stay out of it? She wouldn’t understand or respect anything he might try to reason.

Bella was some of the only family Lucius had left. They fought about all sorts of things but at the end of the day, they always agreed that family came first. He had backed her through worse things than this. She made him want to pull his hair out sometimes, but whether he liked it or not, she was Draco’s aunt and one of the last connections he had to Narcissa.

Part of him worried about her reaction if she found out what he actually thought about Potter, separate from the committee he had thrown his name on. But another part of him thought it would be completely worth it to see the expression on her face.

 

Saturday had finally arrived and James had come to where they were meeting. It only took a couple of seconds for James to come to a couple of conclusions. One, that he was horrifically under-dressed and two, Lucius Malfoy had a mean-streak.

Lucius was waiting for him near the door. He grinned wickedly when he caught sight of James.

“Really?” James hissed at him when they were near enough to hear each other.

The only words on the owl Lucius had sent him were an address and the instructions, “Wear something nice”.

James had taken it for a joke of some kind but now here they were, standing outside the most posh looking establishment James had ever laid his eyes on. It was the kind of place he and Sirius would snicker about. They probably had gold-plated tables in there. It wasn’t that money was an issue, far from it, it was more the _people_ who went to these kinds of places.

James glared at the other man’s clothing. Lucius looked beyond elegant. A tailcoat with the shiniest buttons James had ever seen, over an ivory vest and a cream-coloured ascot with gold mixed in like marble. Lucius fit right in here and James knew without a doubt that this was revenge for the first time they drank together.

Lucius’ grin confirmed James’ suspicions, “What?” he played innocence, “I told you to dress nice.”

James had thrown on a nicer-than-average-shirt but a plain pair of dark jeans. Thank God he’d thought it was going to be cold and thrown on a last minute jacket that dressed the ensemble up to the absolute bare minimum. He was still going to stick out like a sore thumb.

Lucius didn’t seem to mind at all.

They went inside, the waiter giving James a bewildered look. James could feel the sets of eyes on him as they were lead to their table. The walked past the high-and-mighty, the gold-diggers and their prey, the pompous, the spoiled, the people James had spent his whole life avoiding.

Soon they were seated and the waiter left them with the menus and specials after one last curious gaze at James.  
  
James didn’t miss the tiniest of smirks on Lucius’ face, “You’re sadistic. You’re enjoying this _way_ too much,” James said, opening the menu and not understanding a single word.

Lucius stopped trying to hide the grin from his face, “It’s entertaining to watch them try to figure you out.” He poured them both a glass of wine that James was sure cost the same as a house.

“They probably think you’re the manager of my boy band,” James muttered, leaning back in his chair. His comment made Lucius snicker and that in turn started to elevate James’ mood.

“I know what this is,” James said, reaching for his glass of wine, “a vendetta.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Lucius said unconvincingly and held out his own glass.

James clinked his glass against Lucius’, a clear callback to the first time they were alone together.

He hadn’t thought about it at the time, but Lucius agreeing to that first drink with him had shifted something huge. James had pulled Lucius into his world without even thinking about what that might mean to the other man. If this was the type of place Lucius usually frequented, how much of his ego had it cost him to sit in that dirty, dark tavern with James?

Now things were reversed and James finally understood. They were from two separate worlds, but they were going to have to figure out how to compromise if this was ever going to work.

James hadn’t thought about the stares Lucius must have gotten in that tavern, dressed to the nines as he always was. But they couldn’t have been _this_ bad. James felt like he would have noticed if they were. This entire crowd seemed to be waiting for James to do something ‘unruly’.

But James was more than a little thrilled. Lucius had brought James into his world and remained completely unbothered by the stares they were getting. He _wanted_ James here, causing chaos with his mere presence. He had _planned_ this.

James gave up and closed his menu, “You’re going to have to order for me, I don’t know a lick of French.”

Lucius’ lips quirked, “It’s Italian.”

James pretended to glare, but he was enjoying this. He kicked at Lucius under the table.

 

Lucius didn’t want to talk about the Muggle Education Committee, even though he knew that they were going to have to at some point. It didn’t have to be tonight, did it? All Lucius wanted to do was savour this.

They talked and argued through dinner and then dessert. The way James looked at him made Lucius burn with desire.

While he had liked the way the people around them snuck curious glances at the pair they made, he wanted to leave so they could be alone. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, dropping his tone so there would be no mistake to what he meant.

James’ eyes glimmered from across the table. “Yes.”

 

James let out a low whistle when they arrived at the manor. It was one of the only original old family houses left. A lot of the old families had renovated or upgraded to more modern homes. But Lucius had never gotten around to that. It had been partly depression and partly the snobbery of being a traditionalist.  
  
Lucius tried to keep his heart from beating out of his chest as he unwarded the Manor to let James inside. It had been a very long time since he had had anyone over. He was worried about how well his House Elf cleaned and the stacks of work he had laying around.

He had sudden consciousness of the insight James might be able to glean from his life by observing his surroundings. It was enough to make Lucius more nervous still.

 

James had only been in an old mansion like this a couple times when he was a kid. Before his parents had been ex-communicated as Blood Traitors. But he didn’t feel out of place exactly, even though he was keenly aware of his ‘Blood Traitorism’ and how old places like this had measures against his kind. He wondered if it was because he was still considered ‘Pure’ or because of Lucius himself who seemed to act like some kind of Pureblood umbrella, making space for James wherever they went.

James was conflicted. He had spent so much of his life resenting his fellow Purebloods that he had never taken any of the opportunities to try and appreciate his own heritage. He hated so much about Pureblood lifestyles that he didn’t often think about the things he took forgranted. Lily had always reminded him again and again that James was a powerful ally for Muggleborns, but he _wasn_ _’t_ Muggleborn. He had been a Pureblood umbrella too, carving space for Lily when she couldn’t do it herself.

He had to remember that all the work he did was so one day he would be asked to step aside and let the Muggleborns themselves take control. He would have to remember to be graceful and step aside without complaint. He wasn’t in this for the glad-handing or the praise. He was doing it because it was the right thing to do and right now he was one of the only Pureblood families willing to do the work. His mission _did_ have an expiration date and the sooner that was, the better. He only needed to kick down the door and then back down.

He tried to turn his thoughts back off, he didn’t want to think about all the politics right now. Especially when Lucius hadn’t said anything about it all night. Maybe he hadn’t seen it yet. James didn’t want to ruin the night by putting them on opposing sides too soon. He knew they would be. Even if James had a secret hope that Lucius carried the sort of resilience and bravery that Sirius and Andromeda had.

 

Lucius lead James into the main sitting room, “I’ll get us something to drink,” Lucius said and disappeared into another room.

James was still in awe at the sheer magnificence of the manor. It felt old but not cold. Not at all how he imagined an old traditionalist house to feel like. It felt like a _home_. There were scattered papers here and there, a blanket crumpled up on a couch, an empty glass on one of the window sills.

James went to one of the bookshelves and scanned the shelves. Old books, a lot of them in other languages. How many languages did Lucius speak?  
  
Then his eyes caught some movement on the far wall. He walked toward it and realized it was a portrait.

 

Lucius calmed himself by pouring port into two wine glasses. He felt young bringing James home like this. After Narcissa he had had mostly flings that he could leave at the hotel rooms or at their own apartments. He’d never brought a lover here before. This was his fortress of solitude. It felt odd but not unpleasant to have James here, making the air warmer just by being there.

Lucius came back with the wine and his heart skipped a beat as he realized James was staring at the large portrait of Narcissa in the living room. James looked up at her in silent wonder. Lucius took a deep breath and crossed the room over to him. He handed James his wine.  
  
James didn’t move his eyes from the portrait, “She’s beautiful,” he said.

A tight knot formed in Lucius’ stomach but then released itself. “Yes, she is.”

“Does she talk?” James asked. Narcissa’s eyes glittered from the canvas, watching them.

“No,” Lucius said and he had never figured out how he felt about that. Did he _want_ an everlasting reminder of Narcissa’s wit and wisdom? Or would he have been constantly disappointed that the mere portrait could never replace what he had lost? Maybe it was for the best that the portrait simply smiled and looked down at the Manor’s guests.

James finally moved his eyes away from the portrait to look at Lucius. The affection in his eyes still made Lucius a little breathless, but there was an odd tempered feeling to it now that they were standing in Lucius’ own home, in front of the moving picture on his late wife. It felt surreal.

Lucius took a sip of his wine to settle his nerves. He didn’t think he was acting too out of the ordinary, but when he moved his eyes from the floor back up to James, James was looking at him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

It wasn’t like there wasn’t anything _wrong_. “Of course,” Lucius said, confident. He would have to try harder to keep his head in the here and now.

And he had a pretty good idea about how to do that.

Lucius put his glass of wine, still a quarter full, aside in a very deliberate fashion. James watched him with what could only be described as bedroom eyes.

When Lucius took a step toward him, James downed his wine like it was water. Lucius took the empty glass from him and put it on the window sill. He leaned in and kissed James. It was slow and tasted like wine. Then he turned and trusted James to follow him down the dark hall and up the stairs to the master bedroom.

When they were in the bedroom Lucius turned to look at James who was smirking sexily and Lucius wasn’t sure how long he was supposed to keep himself in control.

James kissed him and Lucius could feel his composure starting to unravel. He let James push and pull him until they were on the bed. James straddled his hips, looking like a vision with the way his eyes sparked sending a wicked lust spiralling inside Lucius.

What were they going to do this time?

“I want to taste you,” James said and that sounded like a good place to start.

James leaned down to kiss him again before moving his mouth to his throat, then his collarbone. James pulled the ascot off in a satisfying flick of his wrist and tossed it over his shoulder to the floor. Then he undid the buttons on Lucius’ shirt and ran his fingers over Lucius’ chest. His fingers felt cool. James leaned down to lick again, dragging his hot tongue across Lucius’ flushed skin and a nipple. Lucius bucked and James laughed. He sat up and looked at Lucius from that position, pinning Lucius’ thighs with his own.

A flutter of wind at the window caused one of the lace curtains to move. It drew Lucius’ eye. The moonlight filtering in that way was something he’d seen many times before, in this room, in this bed…

All at once Lucius was hit with a tidal wave of confusing emotions. He hadn’t had someone here, in this bed, since his wife had passed. Even now, he could see her pale skin against the lilac sheets. He should have bought new sheets. If he thought about it too hard, he swore he could still smell her scent on them. And all at once he felt like he couldn’t be here, doing this, in the place he’d always associated with _her_.  
  
He could feel the panic starting to swell, what did it mean to have brought someone else here? Did it mean she was gone away forever? Did it mean what they had had wasn’t strong enough? Was it a betrayal that his heart might have had new life breathed into it? He was starting to drown inside his head, but then a voice broke through the waves, James’ voice. “Hey,” he said softly and then his hands were on Lucius’ chest again, but it was soft and questioning, nothing like the erotic touches just moments before, “let’s just sleep, okay?”

That sounded good. It curtailed Lucius’ raging emotions, sending them drifting back off to the sea. James rolled off him and slipped out of his jeans and shirt. Then he helped Lucius out of the rest of his clothing before climbing into bed beside him.

James threw the covers over them and wrapped his arms around him. It was a comforting touch, one of solace, security. Lucius couldn’t remember the last time anyone had ‘hugged’ him. Even while Narcissa was alive, they didn’t often give in to displays of affection in that way. They had preferred words, teasing each other. He knew he _could_ have hugged her if he’d wanted to, and knowing that had always seemed to be enough, he would occasionally kiss her forehead, but even that had been rare. He’d never realized how much he missed even the presence of another person. Something that wasn’t sex-based, something without lust or hunger. How long had it been since someone had _cared_ about him?  
  
And again, as easily as blowing out a candle, James nudged him, “Hey, go to sleep,” and all of Lucius’ over-thinking evaporated. His mind eased as he felt himself falling further into rest, the sensation of James’ arms around him.

 

Lucius awoke more well-rested than he’d been in a long time. The sun was shining brightly and making its way across the carpet. Lucius felt warm. He glanced down at the man sleeping beside him.

Lucius felt different this morning. The guilt and misery that had nearly consumed him the previous night had evaporated. He understood it better now. Narcissa had been like the moon, always had been. She was elegant and beautiful, light and mysterious. There were little pieces of her everywhere in his life and there always would be. There was no replacing her, he wouldn’t want to if he could.

James was a completely different creature. He was like the sun, blinding and brilliant. He had come into Lucius’ gloomy world and filled it with light and warmth with those dark eyes full of mischief. It wasn’t right to compare them. It wasn’t like Lucius had to choose. It wasn’t like Lucius had to _stop_ loving Narcissa. He never would. But that didn’t mean he had to stop living. He felt like she would want this for him. Like she would think that his moping around and obsessing over work was pathetic. It was.

The room looked completely changed with James in it. It was like he had swept away every cobweb in Lucius’ life. Lucius couldn’t even recognize the sheets now, it was like they were transformed underneath him. They looked completely different against James’ dark skin. How had he thought otherwise? Lucius didn’t know how long he stared, but James was blinking blearily up at him.

“S’morning?”

Lucius felt a smile pull at his lips, “Yes.”

James yawned and pulled himself up to a sitting position.

Lucius watched every move he made with rapt attention. He’d forgotten what it was like to be completely drawn in by someone. To be fascinated by their every move. James’ hair was much messier than usual, sticking up all over the place. Not for the first time, Lucius thought it made him look very young. He found himself looking forward to the day James’ hair turned grey, perhaps then he’d look his age. Lucius had never found messy hair attractive before. He reached out to run his hand through it. It was thick and the texture was very different than Lucius’.  
  
James blinked at him. Lucius moved his hand down to the back of James’ neck and pulled him into a kiss. Even the kissing was different, not better, not worse, different. James moved up to push Lucius onto his back. He put himself between Lucius’ legs, his knees pressing into the back of Lucius’ thighs. Yes, everything with James was _decidedly_ different.

James trailed his fingers down Lucius’ abdomen, “Is this okay?” he asked, stopping at the hem of Lucius’ boxers.

“Yes,” Lucius breathed. The sun from the window caught the green in James’ eyes. Lucius watched the way his eyes filled with desire, turned focused and dark.

Lucius reached under a pillow and passed James a small bottle.

James grinned at him, an inside joke. They wouldn’t need James’ Transfiguration talents this time.

At James’ gentle prodding, Lucius allowed himself to be turned around. He buried his face into the mounds of soft pillows.  
  
James’ fingertips brushed his sides and his hips, stopping at his thighs and pulling them apart.

Lucius inhaled sharply when he felt James’ tongue. He wanted to bite his lips to keep from moaning, but decided James would want to hear him. So he let the noises fall from his mouth, muffled as they were in the pillows.

James’ tongue alternated between fast and shallow and slow and deep. It wasn’t long before Lucius was pressing himself up and back, trying to get James deeper.

A thrill ran through him when James stopped what he was doing because he knew what was next.  
  
James kissed him on the back of his neck and then down across his shoulders. Lucius moaned when he felt James’ fingers slide inside him. It was a stretch and burn that felt more than right. He arched his back, unable to help himself. His cock felt heavy and wet as it dragged across more of the soft pillows beneath him.

James pressed his mouth to the back of Lucius’ neck again and this time he lingered to suck at the skin there. His chest was warm against Lucius’ back. Lucius pressed back into him, willing him closer and his fingers deeper.  
  
“Enough,” he gasped at last when he was sure that James was just teasing him.  
  
He could feel the grin pressed against his shoulder when James answered him, “Okay.”

The contrast between the soft, cool mattress below him and the heavy, heat of James’ body above him was heavenly. He fisted the sheets and pillows as James moved inside of him, making his body shudder, making his breath heave.

Lucius moved onto his knees because he needed it harder and faster. James wrapped a strong arm around his waist and pulled him back towards him so they were both on their knees.

Needing to grasp at something, Lucius reached up and behind, pulling at James’ head until James dipped his head to suck at the skin where his neck met his shoulder.

The soft noises James made every time he moved his lips sent little shivers down Lucius’ spine. Lucius leaned back against him, willing him closer, deeper.

James moved his other hand to wrap around Lucius’ cock and Lucius was already far too close. James’ thrusts got faster and combined with the other sensations of James’ voice in his ear and James’ hand working his cock, it hurtled him over the edge. Lucius barely recognized his own voice when he came.

James wasn’t far behind him and they collapsed onto the bed together. James still had his arm around Lucius’ waist.

 

They dozed a little as the warmth of the sun moved further across the carpet. It was probably still early for James, but it was beyond late in the morning for Lucius. They would _eventually_ need to start the day.

Lucius rolled over to get his wand, “I’ll call the House Elf for breakfast,” he decided.

James pulled Lucius’ arm away from where he was reaching for his wand, “Tell me where the kitchen is, I’ll make something.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I mean it, I love cooking.”

“I’m not having you leave bed to _cook_ for me when there are House Elves who-”

James sighed and fixed Lucius with a look that said he was about to be serious about something, “Okay, look. One of Harry’s friends made me sign a sworn statement saying I wouldn’t benefit from unpaid House Elf labour.”

Lucius blinked, this was a joke right?

James poked Lucius’ forehead with his index finger, “You know, you get a crease right here when something irks you.” Lucius was still staring at him, waiting for the punchline. James kissed his forehead and rolled off the bed.

Lucius continued staring as James grabbed his clothes from the chair near the bed. “I promise, you’ll love it,” he said.

Once he was dressed enough to venture from the bedroom, Lucius watched James disappear out the door. Lucius was still completely confused about what was going on. James hadn’t even taken his wand with him. What was he going to do? Cook without magic?

 

Lucius took advantage of the alone time to check his home office. It was still the most used room that he owned. Sometimes he even slept here at the desk instead of his bed.

He hadn’t replied to Bellatrix’s owl, and he was immediately reminded of that when he opened the office door and Bellatrix’s bad-tempered owl was waiting for him there. The owl bit his finger when he took the letter from it and didn’t seem inclined to move until it had a reply.

He fed the owl as he read the letter.

Her letter was typical. Pleas to his humanity, asking him to please think about Draco’s future, think about Narcissa’s legacy. Not for the first time Lucius wanted to inform her that she didn’t know her sister as well as she thought she had. He also resented the way she thought she could help him raise his son. Bellatrix and Rudolphus had no children of their own and Lucius was sort of glad for that even if it meant he got more than enough unsolicited advice.

He wrote her a reply and sent the owl off. He sucked on his bleeding finger as he watched the owl fly off into the clouds.

Lucius went back to the bedroom and debated with himself again about whether or not he should bring up the Muggle Studies proposal. But the smell that assaulted him when James came back with breakfast, made it impossible to think about anything at all except about how hungry he was.

Lucius tried to look skeptical as James set the food on one of the tables near the window. Lucius dragged himself out of the bed to look over it.

“Well?” James grinned at him. He looked far too pleased with himself. “Try it.”

Lucius picked up a fork and stabbed it into the fluffiest looking part of the pancake. It didn’t look like much, but the red and blue berries poking out of it looked promising. He put it in his mouth and the flavour exploded as he chewed it.

Lucius _did_ love it. He tried not to make any telling noises as he pulled out one of the chairs so he could sit and devour. He could hear James snicker as he sat across from him.

It _was_ delicious, but there was also something about having someone cook for you, that made the whole experience even better. Or maybe it was because it was completely new to him. Narcissa had never stepped foot in a kitchen. And Lucius would die before he admitted it to anyone, but Muggle cooking always tasted better.

 “So?” James grinned at him over his own plate.

 Lucius chewed slowly and then swallowed. He tried to look as unimpressed as he could manage, “It’s tolerable.”

 James raised one eyebrow, “You love it. I can tell.”

 Lucius didn’t know if that was true or if James was really just that egotistical.

“The secret ingredient’s love,” James grinned and Lucius shook his head. If he let James know how much he was enjoying this, would James bribe him with it like Emma always did?

Lucius noticed for the first time that James had brought in a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that must have been delivered downstairs. The headlining story, of course, was the Muggle Education Committee.

Lucius knew that he had to say something about what The Pureblood Society had asked him to do, but he also didn’t want to risk what was happening right here and now. Why did he have to keep thinking about work and about his social position and all that that entailed when he just wanted to have _one_ day where he could think about what _he_ wanted? And he _did_ want this, he realized with a crystal clarity. But did he want it enough to throw away everything he had fought for all his life? His alliances, his family’s legacy, his job security?

“What are you thinking about?” James asked, shooting him a look from across the table.

Lucius shook his head, “Nothing,” he lied. He needed to enjoy this because it might be the only chance he ever got. If this was the only time they would be together like this, he had to make it count. He didn’t delude himself into thinking that James would support him or stay with him if he chose to back his ex-in-laws, who may be extreme in their views, but were still essentially _family_.

James was clearly not buying Lucius’ flimsy lie, so Lucius said, “I’m wondering how a Pureblood Wizard can cook _this_ well without a wand.”

James grinned, “Lily and I never used wands in the kitchen. She liked to teach me all the Muggle tricks to making food. Using magic to cook feels pointless now.”

Not for the first time, Lucius was amazed at the ease with which James could discuss Lily. Maybe it was just the time he had had to recover, but Lucius still couldn’t talk about Narcissa so casually. Not without being consumed by grief and worry that he wasn’t doing enough to honour her memory.  
  
“I see,” Lucius hummed and ignored the way that James strategically manoeuvred his plate and napkin over top of the Daily Prophet. It looked like Lucius wasn’t the only one avoiding it.

 

It was a Sunday but Lucius _did_ have to go into work. He couldn’t stand leaving the office for more than one full day at a time. There were too many things that needed his attention. And if he didn’t get to them, owls would start coming _here_ to the manor and that was unacceptable.

“Call in sick,” James grinned and pulled at Lucius’ sleeve as he was trying to get dressed.

Lucius shook his head, but his lips were fighting him in not grinning back, “You are a bad influence.”

James wiggled his eyebrows, “I haven’t been called that since Hogwarts.”  
  
There were still so many things Lucius didn’t know about James. For instance, why he knew the Forbidden Forest like the back of his hand. But Lucius was also aware of how essential it was for him not to push too close yet. Because the one thing he _did_ know about James was that Lucius couldn’t ever ask him to stay if he chose to side with the Pureblood Society on the issue neither one of them had brought up yet. It was lingering there, waiting… but neither one of them seemed eager to pop this bubble they had put themselves in. At least not yet.

“I’ll owl Amanda and say I’m coming in after lunch,” Lucius said, aware that this was a concession in a battle he couldn’t afford losing, “but I _am_ going in this afternoon.”

James’ smile was a weapon, Lucius felt his willpower waver, but he _did_ have to go into work today. He didn’t need anything else piling up while he toiled away on what he needed to finish before the week was over.

“Okay,  I’ll choose my battles. What do you want for lunch?” James asked, still grinning. 

* * *

 

  
Mondays were always the worst, but this one in particular was sure to be unbearable because it meant there was an excruciating three days before he would get to see James again. And as he was thinking that the day couldn’t get worse, of course it did. 

Bellatrix was waiting for him when he entered his office. He didn’t even know that Bellatrix _knew_ there was such a thing as morning. She tended to sleep until late afternoon and stay out all night. He was sure she was part-vampire.

“What is this?” she demanded before he had even put his things down on his desk.

“What does it look like?”

She crumpled his letter in her fist. “It _looks_ like you’re turning your back on your brothers and sisters.”

Lucius didn’t _have_ any brothers or sisters but it was Pureblood rhetoric to refer to all Purebloods as part of the same family. It was supposed to inspire pride and a desire to protect. Lucius had never mentioned that he thought it was a little _too_ on the nose considering their long histories of inbreeding.  
  
“I would prefer to keep my head down for the time being,” Lucius said, taking a seat at his desk. He wondered about calling security on her but then thought better of it because Bella wouldn’t think twice about spilling blood on his clean carpet.

“You mean you want to stick your head in the sand.”

“Yes,” he wasn’t going to be ashamed of that. Many people in his position did the same thing. They were traditionalists and staying out of these fights was the only thing that separated them from the extremists. It also wasn’t fair for the Pureblood Society to always be putting so much pressure on him because of his position. Couldn’t they find some other pawns in government?

“If you don’t do something, our traditions are going to get flushed down the drain. Our children are already forced to interact with Mudbloods against their wills, now they want us to force our children to listen to their disgusting sob stories and histories too?”

Arguing with Bellatrix was impossible, because she didn’t listen. There was no point in pointing out the obvious flaws in her logic. When she got desperate, she got angry, and when she got angry she tended to throw curses around.  
  
“Think of _your son_.”

He _did_ need to think of his son. Lucius recalled what James had said about getting caught up with people like Bellatrix, but it wasn’t that easy. Bella was Draco’s aunt and whatever her politics, she loved the boy and Lucius thought it was important to still have some sort of connection to his mother. Even if it was in the form of her batty, extremist sister.

“Luci… think of your _family_.”

Bella always knew to press where it hurt. And even though Lucius wanted this promotion, _wanted_ to remain neutral… he had sort of always known it would come down to this. He suddenly remembered the look Emma had given him the day she’d told him she was a psychic. It had been a look of worry, maybe pity. Maybe she had known all along that this was what he had to do. And it would hurt more than he was sure he could imagine. But family _was_ the only thing that mattered.

“I’ll make a public statement at the end of next week,” he decided. There was going to be a press conference and the sooner he got this over with, the better.

Bellatrix looked relieved. “You’re doing the right thing,” she said and kissed his cheek.

He didn’t say anything as he watched her leave. He didn’t know _what_ was right or wrong anymore.

 

Thursday finally came.

They’d decided on a restaurant not too far from the Ministry building. Lucius found himself brimming with energy in the knowledge that people were looking at them like they were a couple. And they… they _were_ weren’t they? At least for now.

So Lucius was determined to enjoy the attention in the meantime, the curious looks that came their way, the way James’ fingers would brush his absentmindedly. Sometimes Lucius would try to sneak a look at the other man from the corner of his eye only to realize that James was already doing the same thing. It sent a pleasant rush of warmth throughout Lucius’ whole body.

It stung to think that this could all be over tomorrow.

When lunch was finished, that impending sense of doom returned. And this time Lucius could tell that he wasn’t the only one thinking about it. James had gone from boyishly flirty to a man with something heavy on his mind.

“I know you must’ve seen it,” James said, flexing his fingers nervously, “The Muggle Education Committee’s newest initiative. And you must know about the press conference tomorrow.”

They couldn’t avoid this anymore. He knew that James wasn’t fooled by Lucius pretending that nothing was wrong when it was a situation that had been eating at him for the past week. “The Pureblood Society has asked me to give a statement,” Lucius said and they both became very quiet. The ‘Pureblood Society’ wasn’t an actual society so much as a group of Muggle-hating bullies that Lucius had long been associated with.

They both knew that this moment was important. Essential. That it was potentially the last time they would be together. James was watching him, preparing himself for wherever way Lucius was going to lean, “And what are you going to say?”

Lucius shook his head, “First, I want you to tell me what you think. Why are you backing this?”

James looked a tad annoyed but then took a deep breath. His eyes changed, so did his voice. Lucius was surprised. So this was serious James Potter. No games, no fooling around.

“I _do_ think Wizard traditions are important. I also believe that they’re not so insubstantial that they’re capable of blinking out of existence because we’ve elected to change certain aspects of our society. The way our traditions die are when old wizards and witches are too used to keeping secrets and let those secrets _die_ with them. If we want the Wizarding World to thrive, to _survive,_ we have to accept those that are Wizards and Witches by _nature_ not by blood.”

“Fine, but what does that have to do with making an elective class mandatory?”

“Everything. People are _scared_ of Muggles because they don’t understand them.”

“Muggles and Wizards have never understood each other.”

“We haven’t _tried_.”

“What makes now different than any time before?”

“Because Muggleborn children have been a staple at Hogwarts for only the past 50 or so years. They deserve to be there every bit as much as a child born to a Wizarding family. In fact, they need to be there _more_ because they’re the ones that need the most help in controlling their magic. Their parents can’t help them, it’s up to _us_ to make sure they can use magic properly and safely. And having Muggleborn children in our schools means interacting with them, it means giving them the simple courtesy of at least _trying_ to understand where they come from.”

“They’re making the decision to come into our world, not the other way around.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t make room for them. Muggleborn kids have a lot to offer the Wizarding World. They have stuff like magic you can’t even imagine. They have the Internet and amusement parks and _science_.”

Lucius only knew what one of those things were.

James grinned at him because he _knew_ that Lucius had no idea what he was talking about, “You have no idea how much you could learn from them. And our children won’t know either unless we give them the opportunity.”

“Muggle Studies _are_ an opportunity. I’m not saying we should take it out of the curriculum,” he actually might have said that a few years back, “but we don’t need to make it _mandatory._ ”

“Don’t we? Don’t Pureblood families keep their children out of those classes on purpose? I’m not talking about _school_ , I’m talking about the future, _our_ future. If Wizards and Witches don’t know the very basic things about Muggles, how are we supposed to continue sharing the Earth? Do you think we can ignore each other forever? Someday our worlds are going to collide and the Wizards and Witches who have somehow managed to avoid contact with Muggles all their lives will be sorely ill-prepared.”

“This is all about politics.”

James laughed mirthlessly, “Of course it is! It always is. I want this because it will give us the advantage of _starting_ kids having empathy for Muggles and Muggleborn people _before_ they’re filled with so much ‘Pureblood Pride’ that that becomes impossible. It’s the first step in starting to eliminate the hate and fear that is suffocating all of us. What does the other side gain from keeping things as they are?”

Lucius didn’t need to say it, they both knew the same things. The Pureblood version of the future was bleak. It was monotonous, incestuous, and ultimately, it was doomed. Purebloods were stuck in the past, a fictional past, mind you, because there was no such thing as a completely Pureblood family. That was one of the secrets you were supposed to die with. Purebloods were obsessed with family ties while at the same time each and every one of them also resented them. Lucius would have thrown his own grandfather to the dragon that ate him himself if he could. It was an illusion, a giant lie. But it was also a matter of pride, couldn’t James, as a Gryffindor, understand that? It was a matter of holding your community together.

“And what about the glorious Muggle history of murdering Witches?”

“That will get taught too. It _has_ too. Analyzing our pasts is what will ensure we don’t make those mistakes again.”

“It’s nice of you to categorize genocide as a ‘mistake’.”

“My family lost people too. There isn’t anyone who wasn’t affected. But that doesn’t mean we get to turn around and do the same thing to them. Purebloodists think we’re so much better than Muggles. But we never _act_ the part, do we? Purebloodists are the first people in history as victims of genocide to suggest genocide as revenge for genocide. Does that sound right to you?”

Lucius’ head hurt. And his heart hurt. None of this changed the fact that he had to deliver his response in front of the world in under fifteen hours.

“What are you going to say?” James asked.

Lucius shook his head, “I haven’t decided.”

“They’re giving you the podium. You either use it to uphold the status quo or challenge it.”

“I can’t afford to think of anything right now except my son.”

“And what about all the other kids? What happens to them?”

“It’s ironic you’re worried about other kids when your son is the school bully.”

He regretted the words as soon as he spoke them. James’ eyes changed and there was a look there that Lucius knew all too well. The look of a man who thought he had failed as a father.

“Do what you have to do,” James said getting up from the table. He dropped his napkin onto his plate and Lucius could feel the way James’ eyes were burning into him, but he didn’t dare look up. James left without another word, things unsaid hanging midair all around him.

Lucius didn’t know whether they would see each other again. Whatever this thing was, it could all be over tomorrow, severed with whatever words Lucius decided to say.

 

James had been a fool to think that Lucius was anything like Sirius or Andromeda. Lucius wasn’t the kind of person who would run away from the obligations and allegiances he had to the Pureblood community. Sirius and Andromeda had gotten out when they were young and not entrenched in a life built around those values. James felt like he had been deluding himself this whole time. He let himself think that their conversations and the way Lucius seemed to open up to him had _meant_ something. What had James expected? That Lucius was going to turn in his Pureblood status for a guy he’d only been seeing for a couple weeks? What a perfectly, idealized fantasy James had been living in.

James knew that there were aspects to Pureblood life that he had never known. His parents had never bought into any of the extremist crap that had flown around. They didn’t believe that caring about other people, whether they were magical or not made them ‘lesser’ people. They had always taught him that if someone couldn’t defend themselves, you had to step up.

Lucius had had a very different upbringing. James knew the idea of ‘family’ was an important one to him. He would do whatever it took to protect his family. James loved that about him. And he also lamented it. Neither one of them had entered into this relationship with nothing to lose, they weren’t teenagers or children who could choose love above all else. They were adults who had to balance their lives, the safety of their families, and everything else that came with that. Adults came with baggage and history and social consciousnesses that may or may not be in conflict. In the beginning, James had clung to the hope that Lucius wasn’t like the people he associated with. He wasn’t like McNair and Lestrange, but that wasn’t the important part. It didn’t matter if Lucius didn’t share their sentiments if he still wanted to stand for what they _meant_.

There was nothing James could do. He would have to wait to hear what would be said at the press conference. And he would try his utmost to take it all in stride, whatever happened, he would either be rewarded or he would start the work of mending his broken heart.

 

Lucius kept his head down as he made his way to the press conference in the B hall. He didn’t look anyone in the eye. He told himself again and again that he wasn’t ashamed for what he was about to do. Lucius couldn’t let his feelings for James sway him. He had to do what he thought was right. He had to think about his family, about _Draco_ , and that’s what he was going to do. He had to narrow his focus to the one and only thing that mattered, _Draco_.

He walked into the press conference and gave a short nod at Lucinda Talkalot, looking completely intimidating in her best outfit. She was the very picture of professional and Lucius reminded himself over and over again that that was what he needed to look like too. He couldn’t let James’ personal politics and passion distract him. He had to be professional about this.

He took his position in front of the podium. He noted various members of the Pureblood Society in the audience, they smiled encouragingly at him. He _didn_ _’t_ look to the other side of the room where he knew the Muggle Education Committee would be sitting. He knew James would be there, watching him, waiting. Lucius swallowed and unfolded his statement.

“I am Lucius Abraxas Malfoy the second. I am an employee at the Magical Education Department and despite the desire to remain neutral, I’ve been asked to take a side in this highly divisive matter.”

There were a few coughs and some eye rolls. Lucius had to try and remain focused.  
  
“Many of you will recognize my name. My family fought for years to make certain our family name would always mean something important in the Wizarding World. And it is my intention to continue that fight today.” The lights from camera bulbs were burning bright and Lucius could already feel himself sweating. One of the flashes made him squint, he saw stars behind his eyes.

“The Muggle Education Committee has put forth the motion to make Muggle Studies at Hogwarts mandatory. I would like to say today,” he hesitated, willing his voice not to fail him, “I am supporting their efforts.” The room fell completely silent, you could have heard the bead of sweat that rolled off Lucius’ temple. “We gain nothing by keeping our children ignorant of their Muggleborn classmates. I am a traditionalist and I will do what it takes to ensure that our traditions and our history are preserved. It will _not_ survive in the void we have created. It is not fair for my son to not have all the opportunities available to him, to not provide him with the best education there is to offer.”

Nobody moved, nobody _breathed_. Lucius felt his hands shake, he ignored it. He had a mantra he’d been thinking for weeks now. _Holometabolism._ The Muggle equivalent of Transfiguration. There were many steps to Metamorphosis and this was the first one.

“I will not allow my son to grow up ignorant to the vast world beyond our very small one, to be _ill-prepared_ when our worlds inevitably collide. Our traditions _will_ survive, but only if we have raised our children to be mindful of the worlds around them and to be proud of their own. I want my family name to mean something in the future too and I believe that that starts right here and right now.”

Lucius hands were still shaking as he folded his statement back up. He barely dared to breathe as the silence permeated every inch of his body. And then the room exploded into thunderous, ear-shattering applause. It nearly knocked him off his feet. Lucius could hardly believe it. He risked a look at Bella who looked murderous before he was rushed from the stage by Talkalot’s people before the press or Pureblood Society could pounce on top of him.

Lucius had been hoping to appeal to the Purebloods’ insistence on thinking about family, but he had figured out a long time ago that that didn’t mean what they claimed it meant. They cared about their families so long as their family members remained in militant obedience and never once questioned them or attempted to express themselves. Was that how they wanted to raise their children? To be the easy prey for whatever charismatic extremist showed up next? To have no thoughts and opinions of their own? To have no skills or safeguards against a world that would trap them in those abusive cycles again and again?  
  
“Holy shit!” Lucius heard Talkalot screeching, “Holy shit!” She ran up to him and pulled him through a secret door off to the side of the corridor. Lucius was pretty sure he had never heard her swear before, but it was possible he also didn’t know her that well. “Holy shit, the Pureblood Society is going to roast you alive,” she said but she was grinning like mad. She shook his shoulder in excitement. “This is the best day of my life.”  
  
“Aren’t you a Pureblood?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she snorted, “But the Pureblood Society doesn’t represent us. They don’t even represent _a fraction_ of us and they act like they represent _all_ of us. Damn, I wish I could have done what you just did.”  
  
He didn’t have time to react to that statement because then Emma was there. She grabbed his arm, steering him to a back room. “So? How does it feel to have made some very powerful enemies today?”

“Is that what I did?"  
  
Emma grinned that feral grin of hers, “It was glorious.”  
  
“You’ll have to rescind that recommendation you wrote me.”

Emma stared, “Are you kidding me?” she punched him in the arm, it actually hurt a lot, “I’m going to push it harder than I’ve ever pushed anything in my life. Changes are happening and you just lit the fire under all our asses.”  
  
Lucius was in shock. There was no way that his words carried _that_ much weight, these things didn’t happen over night or over a press conference. His family was powerful and old, but nothing he had ever said before had caused this much of a stir. Then again, nothing he had ever said at a press conference before had been his honest thoughts. They had been scripted statements penned by the Pureblood Society and had never resonated with anyone except the people who had written them.

Emma and Lucinda were already heading for the door, “Wait,” he called, “Did you know this was going to happen?”

Emma gave him an impatient look, “No,” she hummed, “I knew you were going to lose someone close to you. I had no idea who it would be.”

There was a pain in his heart as her words caught him up with reality. He had lost a large piece of his family. Bella would never speak to him again… if he was lucky. Or maybe she might actually kill him.

Emma and Talkalot were on their way out the door again to tackle whatever was coming next. No problem for a pair of psychic PR professionals.

They left him in the back room where he could watch the rest of the press conference undisturbed in one of the magic mirrors set up there. James was on the podium now. He was beaming ear to ear. Someone must have done some heavy duty magic on his hair because it wasn’t all over the place. Lucius reminded himself again that it wasn’t _because_ of James that he’d done this, but… it was a happy aligning of interests.

Lucius hadn’t heard the question he was asked, but James said, “Of course we are elated to have some major Pureblood support. Mister Malfoy’s comments have a lot of weight and I couldn’t be happier. I think we have just witnessed the birth of a _new_ traditionalism. A stronger and better focused traditionalism. As Mister Malfoy said, if we want Wizarding traditions to survive, we need to be progressive and forward-thinking. We need to stop our children from getting press-ganged into extremist groups and in order to do that, we have to give them the ability to identify harmful extremist ideas from traditionalist ones. We have to give them the tools they need to combat toxic ideas and mandatory Muggle Studies is where that starts.”

 

When the press conference was over, Talkalot stuck her head into the back room for a second, “You’re going to wanna take the scenic route and cut through Floo Network Department. It’s a zoo out here.”  
  
Lucius tried not to look as elated as he felt when he found James waiting for him outside the Floo Network Authority doors.

“Are you sure we should be seen together?” Lucius asked, the press and Pureblood extremists would think that James was bribing him or something.

James smirked, “We could use Polyjuice. Glamours? I know a spell that could give us beards as long as Dumbledores’.”

James always had a solution for everything. Lucius hid a snicker and shook his head, “I’m not old enough to pull of that look. Give me another two hundred years.”

“We could always tell them the truth,” James suggested.

Lucius turned his collar up against the cold, “And what’s that?”

“That I seduced and converted you to Blood Traitordom.”

Lucius rolled his eyes, “That’s not what happened.”

“But think of the headlines.”

Lucius tried not to smile but he did find it kind of funny. The Pureblood Society would definitely believe that. He was expecting their own statement to pop up soon. They’d cut him out of their society, say it was Imperius or something. If they saw them together right now, they’d say it was a love potion.

He’d have to tell them that it was just plain, boring, regular love and it didn’t have much to do with Lucius’ own thoughts on the situation. He did think James was right about this. Their world was becoming darker and scarier and full of hatred and fear and at the same time, it was becoming more and more entangled with the Muggle world day by day. If this one small thing could create a better future for the next generation, it was such a small price to pay. And maybe some kid in the future will bring this Internet thing into the Wizarding World and change it forever. They would all be stronger for it.

“Does this mean we’re officially a _thing_?” James asked. They fell into step together as they made their way up the street.

“Were you going to dump me if I’d backed the Purebloodists?”

James grinned, “Without a second thought.”

Lucius shook his head, but he couldn’t stop the smile. There was no way they would have worked if that had been the case. And as much as he told himself that this had nothing to do with James, of course it did. James had given him the courage to do what he had done. It was a courage he doubted he would have ever found on his own. Even with Narcissa by his side, he might have only managed to remain neutral. James had definitely changed him. And it felt _good_. It felt powerful and freeing.

Instead of replying, Lucius reached out and took James’ hand in his. The sense of calm and bliss that the simple action caused made Lucius completely forget that it was December and freezing because he was warm through and through.

Tomorrow he would have to face reality. Bella was pissed and there would be hell to pay, but for the first time in Lucius’ life, he wasn’t afraid. And then there was the more pressing issue… how and what were they going to tell the children?

**Author's Note:**

> I've planned this story to have three parts. I hoped you enjoyed the first one! The second part will deal primarily with the kids and the concept of 'family'.


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